An Unexpected Encounter
by NikS1nnoman
Summary: Rewritten. Its been just over a month but Spiral refuses to let them go just yet. A surprise visit from an out-of-state Detective throws the team sideways. **This is a crossover with CSI:NY, but only refers to the show/characters/events. This is entirely AU, non-profit, and written entirely to sate the plot pandas. Rated M just to be safe.**
1. Chapter 1

**I am not a doctor I am an ESL teacher. I have no knowledge of anything medical. If anything is wrong I apologise.**

Chapter One

Two weeks. Two weeks off and he had just about had enough. Damn the doctors and their stupid edicts, he could not stand another day off. Even riding the desk and filling out the copious amounts of paperwork that came with their job was a better option than sitting at home doing bugger all. Okay in all honesty he had been off for a month, but for the first two weeks he had been unconscious in Druid Hills, Georgia. But G. Callen was not a man who could sit idly by for an extended period of time. It just wasn't in his nature. Technically he should still be in Georgia, but after the fourth escape attempt from CDC headquarters, his doctors had come to an agreement with him that if he took two weeks of quiet activity they would release him early.

At least this time he had managed eight days without going into OSP. Normally he would be back to work after about three days. But this time his boss had formally threatened him with the sack if he had turned up before at least seven days had passed since his release from the hospital. And despite his reputation of not following the rules and being a bit of a lone wolf, Callen did not want to be forced to leave his job at NCIS OSP. Finally he had found something he liked, people he had managed to stay with for nearly eight years now. The longest he had ever spent somewhere.

But enough was enough. Today was the 5th February, exactly a month since he had been poisoned by a brand spanking new biochemical weapon, Spiral. Seventeen days since he had woken up in Georgia. And fourteen days since he had been released from the hospital and allowed to return home to LA, the land of the rich, famous, and quite frankly insane part of human society. Today Callen was returning to work, and Hetty be damned. He had done what she had said, and had managed to stay away from OSP for eight whole days. The fifth of February was the eleventh day since he had stepped back into his house (after spending three additional days at the hospital here in LA) and Callen was going back to work. Due to his insomnia, which seemed to have become increasingly more pronounced since he had not been working, he had been awake since 0400 hours and so at 0800 hours he was walking out of his house and making his way down to his car when an extremely familiar car pulled up in from of him.

Unable to stop the smirk, Callen crossed the road and climbed into the passenger seat of the black Challenger, shutting the car door and buckling himself in before turning to look at his partner of seven years with a raised eyebrow. "Am I really that predictable?"

Sam Hanna snorted as he put the car into drive and pulled out into the street. "G, I've been working with you for the last how many years? I think the only person who knows you better than me is Hetty. Why do you think she banned you from Mission for the last week? If you had your way you would have been in last Wednesday."

Callen laughed. "Well I have been jumping out of my skin for the past few days so I guess you're right. For once." He glanced over at Sam who merely rolled his eyes. The pair of them had missed their usual banter and it was painfully obvious that the next couple of days would be filled with them getting it out of their systems. Much to the chagrin of the rest of their team. "So how has the office been? Any new cases?"

"Pretty quiet, for a change. Well Deeks is still there so not as quiet as it could be." The two men laughed. "We've only have the one case, a dead corporal at Pendleton which turned out to be a drug bust. Apart from that it's been the usual paperwork and trying to avoid the ninja.

Sam and Callen continued to catch up on the few things Callen had missed whilst being off as they drew closer to Mission. Pulling into his usual parking spot Sam killed the engine before looking over at his partner. "Ready to face the lion?"

"I thought Granger was still in DC." Callen joked as he climbed out of the Challenger, grabbing his bag along the way.

"I meant Hetty you dolt." Sam rolled his eyes at G's grin.

"I would never call Hetty a lion. She's a tiger."

"No that's Kensi."

"So what does that make you, the elephant?"

Sam gave G a level look. "Keep it up. You'll be back in the hospital before you realise it." Callen's laugh followed them into OSP.

Their minuscule boss wasn't at her desk when Callen and Sam walked into the building, but that didn't mean she wasn't there. The little ninja had the disturbing habit of popping up unannounced and scaring the shit out of all of them. And it was still scary as to just how much she knew about everything. The two men had just settled at their desks, Callen looking slightly worried at the amount of paperwork that was sitting on his, when the voices of their two teammates drifted in from the carpark.

"You have to try it. Nothing beats a morning set."

"Nothing except an extra hour in bed. You will never get me out there that early."

"Why not Kensilina? Can you not see it? 6:30 in the morning, nothing there except sand and sea. No one else there, no one watching."

Kensi Blye and Marty Deeks finally came into view, both so engrossed in their banter as they walked into the bullpen that neither of them noticed Callen sitting at his desk watching them. It was only when he finally cleared his throat that the pair of them jumped and tuned, shouting out their surprise at the same time.

"Holy mother of…"

"What are you doing…"

Sam shook his head and Callen laughed slightly, leaning back in his seat. "It's good to see you two to. Now what the hell are you going on about this time?"

Deeks grinned. "Well it's like this. I'm trying to convince Kenz here that coming down to the beach with me in the early hours of the morning is a great idea. There's no one there…"

"And like I told him there is no way I would be getting up at an ungodly hour to spend more time with him when I could be at home wrapped up in my duvet. It's bad enough I have to spend most of my working hours with him, why would I want to be with him outside of work."

"Ah but Kenz you would love it. Imagine what we could get up to in those few hours…"

"And that is exactly the reason why I am not meeting up with you Deeks."

"What?! All I was going to say was surfing. What were you thinking about Kensilina?" Kensi by this point had sat down at her desk, after giving Callen a welcome back hug, and her only reply to Deeks was to throw a pencil at him. Sharpened, of course. It bounced off his head and clattered as it hit the floor. He yelped and rubbed his head, winking at Kensi as he gave Callen his own welcome back greeting, a slightly sandy high-five. As Callen wiped the sand off his hand an ear-piercing whistle parted the air and they all looked up the stairs as Eric who was grinning at them.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the ball is rolling. Good to see you Callen." He waved his hand slightly before making his way back over to OPS.

The team stood and started over to the stairs, Deeks providing the usual commentary. "Why does Eric say that? It's only us guys and Kens…OW!" Kensi had punched him in the arm. "What was that for?"

"Do you really want to finish that sentence Deeks?" Kensi stared at him, an eyebrow slightly raised. Deeks opened his mouth to reply then shook his head and carried on up the stairs.

Sam chuckled and asked Callen quietly "And you wanted to come back why?"

The two men were still laughing as they walked into OPS, G slowing slightly when he saw his boss and Operations Manager, Hetty Lange, standing in front of the big screen. "Morning Hetty."

"Mr Callen, you are not supposed to be back here for at least another five days." The tone of her voice was the same as ever, making it impossible for anyone in the room to know whether she was angry at G or just resigned to see him.

Callen shrugged slightly. "You told me to stay away for at least seven days. I did that. In fact I stayed away for eight. Now I'm back, and ready to work."

Hetty sighed ever so slightly, her eyes twinkling as she took in the appearance of her Senior-Agent-in-charge. He did indeed look better, except for the slight shadows under his eyes. No more than she expected though in all honesty. "Well then , in that case, welcome back Mr Callen. Now you will all be pleased to know you have not been called up here for a new case. Rather it is the tying up of an old one. Sort of. Maybe it is fate that you returned to work today Mr Callen, as we are going back to Spiral."

Everyone in the room flinched slightly at the name of the bio-chemical weapon that had so nearly claimed the life of their team leader. Callen merely looked down at Hetty and waited for her to continue.

"Let me expand on that. It is not technically Spiral we are focusing upon; the CDC has taken control of that aspect. We are looking at the Celtic Militia who tried to steal the drug. It appears that this may not be the first time that this particular group has become involved with American authorities." Callen frowned at that; as far as he had been aware, this was the first time the Irish group had attempted anything on American soil. Unsurprisingly it was Sam who voiced the question Callen had been thinking; scarily it was nearly word for word accurate.

"It would appear that is not the case Mr Hanna. It seems that our Irish friends were rather active just under eight years ago. I do not have all of the specifics yet…" Callen raised an eyebrow in surprise "…but there is a young woman awaiting your arrival at the boatshed. She has just arrived from Washington and has asked to be informed on everything we know about this Celtic Militia. Mr Callen, you and Mr Hanna will go over to the boatshed, Mr Beale and Miss Jones will send over everything we have once they have compiled it all together. Any questions?"

Deeks was in the process of opening his mouth when Hetty shook her head slightly. "You and Miss Blye will be attending to the paperwork residing on your desks. That is all." With that their boss left the room, leaving Deeks floundering like a fish. Sam and Callen left OPS chuckling, followed eventually by Kensi dragging her partner out by his ear.

The Challenger pulled up at the Marina, Callen rolling out of the passenger seat with a grin. "And that is why I keep telling you to be nice to her. You know how she gets."

"And this is coming from the guy whose mission in life is to antagonise every person he comes into contact with" came Sam's monotone reply, almost as if they had had this conversation a thousand times. "Anyway I didn't do anything. She's just got one of her moods on again."

By this point the two men had made it down to the wooden building. Opening the door Callen walked straight into the lounge area, noting the woman who stood with her back to the door. She had a hand to her eat and was murmuring softly, indicating she was on the phone. She turned her head slightly and noticed the two agents, nodded and held up a finger indicating she would be a minute. Sam strolled over to the kitchenette to grab a coffee for himself whilst Callen took a seat at the table, casting an eye over their guest. The first thing that caught his eye was her hair. Despite the fact that it was caught up in a twist three things were obvious; it was long it was unruly( as told from the mass of curly strands that had escaped from the twist), and it was red. As in sunset, flame red. Tearing his eyes away Callen noted her conversation was held in Greek, with an impeccable accent. The air of authority and her stance hinted that she was in law enforcement. That tagged along with the Glock riding her right hip. So not a paper pusher, which had been his first thought when he had heard the woman had come in from Washington. After thirty seconds she finished her conversation and snapped her phone shut. Pushing it into a pocket in her pants she turned and walked over to them. "Sorry about that. A minor incident with the Greek Embassy back home." Her voice was soft and yet still carried an air of authority, now with no trace of any accent. Callen stood up and offered a hand which she shook.

"Special Agent Callen, NCIS. This is my partner, Special Agent Hanna."

"Detective T-Driscoll, but call me Kimberly please. It's a pleasure to meet both of you." Kimberly took the seat Callen indicated.

"Then we're Callen and Sam. Would you like some coffee?"

Kimberly shook her head and waited for Sam to take a seat. "I'm sorry that this is such short notice. My partner was supposed to be travelling through LA next week and would have picked everything up then but his calendar changed yesterday, so I've had to come out earlier than expected."

Sam shrugged. "It's fine. You said Detective. Are you with Washington PD then?"

Kimberly grinned, shaking her head. "NYPD actually, in the crime lab. I was at a conference in Washington that was somewhat less than stimulating. "

"Our boss said you were here in regards to the Celtic Militia, and that they had been active in America before. Yet our searches didn't indicate they had been here before." Callen drummed his fingers against the table as he looked at the woman sitting opposite them.

"Well that could be due to the fact that they haven't been active in America for eight years. And they didn't have any links to bio-chemical terrorism until a month ago, when they surfaced here in Los Angeles." Kimberly drew a manila file out of a bag at her side and handed it over to Callen. He started looking through it as Kimberly carried on talking. "Eight years ago the NYPD took part in a regular drug-bust. It was a big case, and took place about three months before I officially joined the force. Events ensured, the gang entered the crime lab, and long story short they were killed and half of the lab was blown up. Although to this day I still haven't found out whose idea that was." A ghost of a grin crossed her face.

"What do you think connects the two groups? Apart from the fact that they are Irish?" Sam took the file from Callen and started to read it, going over all the information the NYPD had on the Irish drug-gang.

"That's why I'm here. Call it what you will but there are just too many similarities. Not so much in the cases obviously, but in the people." Kimberly pulled a bottle of water out of her bag and took a swig, waiting for the men to reply.

Callen's phone chimed; pulling it out he read the message from OPS. "Our analysts have downloaded the information we have on the Celtic Militia. Someone should be here with it in about fifty minutes."

Kimberly rubbed her eyes. "Is there any chance it could be hurried up? I'm supposed to be on the one o'clock flight back to New York, if I can make it."

Sam and G traded a look before the former stood up, pulling out his phone. "I'll be right back." He walked to the door, dialling Hetty's number.

Callen looked back at Kimberly "What's the big rush getting back?"

Kimberly sighed slightly. "Well for starters if I don't make the one o'clock flight I have to wait until tomorrow morning. That's when the next flight with any available seats becomes available. Like I said, this was last minute. Plus, we're in a bit of a staffing crisis at the minute. Half of our lab tech's have come down with a crazy flu, two of the CSI's in on maternity/paternity leave and my un…boss is on personal leave. In all honesty I shouldn't have been in Washington but this conference has been on the books for months, and it had already been rescheduled twice. Sufficed to say, everyone is run ragged. If it had been anyone else who had asked me to come out here I would have said no, but it was my boss and I can never say no to him. Plus if I didn't get it now then I have no idea when anyone would be able to come out here to get it, and we need this information as soon as possible."

Callen grinned. "Well, I certainly know the whole feeling run ragged part." He had noticed her slip of the tongue but didn't mention it and she didn't elaborate.

Sam came back in a couple of minutes later. "So we're about to do something we have only done like twice in the past god-knows how long. Our…office…is between here and the airport, so we can drop you off for your flight after swinging past our place to pick up the files."

Kimberly smiled at that and stood up. "That's great to hear. I am sorry to be a pain and disrupt your protocols."

Sam shook his head. "It's nothing. I just hope that what we can give you will be helpful."

The drive back to the Mission was surprisingly fast; for once the traffic light gods were smiling down on them. At least, that's what Sam was saying. Kimberly could tell this must be a regular source of banter between the two men as the lines sounded practically rehearsed. And although they hid it well, she could also tell it was a way to mask the rising tension emanating from them. She guessed, correctly, that it was due to them drawing closer to their base of operations, and that they did not bring 'outsiders' in often.

She cleared her throat slightly. "You know, I don't really need to see where you work. I'm guessing it's kind of secret, what with all the special secret agent titles you've got going on. All I need is the files. Why don't you drop me off somewhere, go and grab the files then come and meet me? After all I don't need two chauffeurs to take me to the airport, do I?" She grinned slightly at them.

Callen snorted slightly under his breath. Were they really that obvious? Sam traded a glance with him, the same expression he was sure was on his own face, before nodding. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Also means you can pick up lunch on the way back G."

"Woah, who said it would be me?"

"I just did. It's your turn to do the lunch run remember. Two birds, one stone."

Callen shook his head. "I brought lunch yesterday old man."

"Yeah but you're buying all week aren't you. Penance for last week."

Callen settled back in his car seat, grumbling half-heartedly to himself. Then he heard the Detective laugh slightly and it made him smile despite himself.

Three blocks away from the Mission Sam pulled over into the carpark of a small diner. Callen let himself out before pulling the passenger seat of the Challenger forward and offered Kimberly a hand. Smiling she placed her hand in his, startled slightly by the shock generated from their combined hands. Apart from swallowing, she showed no sign of acknowledging whatever the hell that was and allowed him to pull her from the car. Straightening she looked up at Callen, her eyes dancing. "Thank you."

Callen held her hand a split second longer than necessary before dropping it and nodding his head slightly. "I'll be about twenty minutes. Keep an eye out for a silver Jaguar."

Kimberly nodded. "Sure thing. I need to make a couple of calls anyway." With that she turned and walked into the diner, pulling her phone out as she went. Callen got back into the car and shut the door, watching her as Sam pulled out into the traffic. His partners' chuckle turned his head.

"What?"

Sam shook his head. "Nothing." He grinned at G. "Absolutely nothing."

Callen's only reply was a raised eyebrow.

 **So if this sounds familiar to anyone it would be because I have taken down** **all** **of my old stories and am reposting updated/revised editions of them, plus a few new projects I'm working on.**


	2. Chapter 2

**So cannot believe the amount of views for the first chapter, wasn't expecting that at all so a thank you to everyone who looked at it. And a big thank you to CMalwaysHP, KBLFan and jonesdeere88 for following the story, and a huge thank you to Judit Hale for both following and adding it to your favourites, it means a lot.**

* * *

Chapter Two

"…certainly sounds as if it's the same group but as I've said I won't know for sure until I look over everything…Yes I know that, but it's been eight years…You know as well as anyone how much a person, let alone a whole group, can change in a year. They've had eight…I'm not grasping at straws; I just want to know if this is the same group. If it is then steps need to be taken…I know. Look my flight leaves in just under two hours okay. I should be landing about 20:00… no, NY time. Yes I'll let you know when I'm boarding the plane." Slender fingers snapped the phone shut and green eyes gazed out of the window.

"That'll be $2.50 darlin'." The voice snapped Kimberly out of her thoughts and she turned to see the kid behind the counter holding out a paper cup filled to the brim with coffee. Handing over the correct money and gingerly taking hold of the cup (Christ above that's hot) she smiled slightly at the kid before stepping away from the counter. Darlin'? He actually called her that? The kid couldn't have been more than 21, at a push. Kimberly walked over to the counter overlooking the parking lot, setting the cup down and reaching for the sweetener packets. Normally she wouldn't add anything but the liquid in the cup was looking more like dishwasher than actual coffee.

She sighed heavily, trying to keep her mind focused, but her thoughts kept drifting. Instead of thinking about the case, like she should have been, all she could think about was the stupid comment that kid had just made. Darlin'. Kimberly almost snorted. So now she was being hit on by teenagers. Great. Of course, it didn't help that she looked about five years younger than she actually was. Add in the height and the fact that she truly had no figure whatsoever; she was more often than not mistaken for being 20, and not 25. Fecking fantastic.

"The coffee isn't all that bad you know." A voice coming from Kimberly's left had her jumping out of her skin. Naturally, the extremely full cup of coffee was in her hand, so it was inevitable that what seemed like half of the contents spilled from the cup and over her hand. With a wince Kimberly dropped the cup onto the counter which the rest of the hot liquid spilled out onto. "Christ I'm sorry, you okay?"

Kimberly grabbed a napkin and started wiping her hand off as she turned her head to look at the newcomer. She was almost half-expecting to see the kid from the counter, and so was slightly taken back by the man staring at her. Mid-to-late 30's, maybe, with short dark hair slightly spiked at the front and dark brown eyes which were looking at her in concern. "Yeah I'm fine. Sorry, my head was in the clouds."

The man chuckled slightly as he grabbed a handful of napkins to help mop up the spilled coffee. "I could see that. I mean, I know the coffee here isn't that great but the way you were glaring at it, it was like you wanted to throw it into a vat of nuclear waste."

Kimberly had to laugh. "Well I never actually took a sip but it certainly didn't look very inviting." She sighed slightly. "No, I just have a million things on my mind at the moment, and being in LA is not helping matters in the slightest." The man looked up at her, confused so she elaborated slightly. "I'm from New York. Here on business. But on my way back home now, fortunately."

"Fortunately? LA can't be all that bad now can it?"

"No, not at all. But like I said, a million things on my mind. The last few months have been stressful and work is just not letting up. Everyone's starting to feel the strain. Me being out here isn't helping. Well, hopefully it will do but not in the short-run."

"So why are you out here then? If you don't mind me asking?" The man looked curious now.

"Something cropped up here in LA that is potentially related to an old situation back in New York. Someone needed to come out here to pick up the information and I was already out of the city, in Washington. Granted it isn't exactly on the way home but it was easier for me to make the detour and come here rather than go back to New York and try and get someone else out here."

He nodded. "I see. And did you get what you needed?"

Wow, curious much. Kimberly was starting to feel a little cautious, but the man didn't appear to be fishing for information. In fact, he seemed like a genuinely nice guy, but you could never be too careful these days. "Yes, I'm on my way to the airport now."

"Do you need a lift? I can't imagine you've been driving yourself around."

Kimberly raised an eyebrow at the man's comment. "And why's that?"

"People who aren't from LA don't really tend to drive here. It can be a bit of a nightmare." He grinned at her.

Kimberly couldn't help but smile back. "Well you are right. I haven't driven here. But try driving in Manhattan. If you can conquer the traffic there, you can drive just about anywhere." She shook her head slightly. "There was no point in me driving here. I only arrived a few hours ago. This is a pit stop more than anything else."

"So do you need a lift?"

Kimberly had to laugh slightly. "Wow, you don't let up do it. Thank you but no, someone's picking me up from here."

"Sorry, that probably came across as some kind of pick-up line. It's not, honest. But at least let me buy you a new drink. It's the least I can do, considering I caused you to drop your first one."

She was about to reply when a flash caught her eye. She turned to look out of the window and saw, just as promised, a silver Jaguar edging into the parking lot. Kimberly wasn't sure whether or not she was relieved to see it. Turning back to the man she smiled regretfully. "As much as I would love to say yes and find out if the coffee really does taste as bad as it looks I can't. My ride's here, and I'm on a pretty tight schedule."

The man nodded, smiling slightly. "Well, I would say another time then, but seeing as you're going back to New York I don't think that'll be any time soon."

Kimberly laughed as she grabbed her bag. "Probably not, but you never know. It was nice to meet you, despite the spillage."

He laughed in return. "Yeah, probably wasn't the wisest thing to do, startle someone when they're holding a full cup of hot coffee." He paused slightly before adding. "It was nice to meet you too."

"Kimberly."

He grinned, holding out a hand. "Don."

Typical, she thought even as she smiled warmly at him, shaking his hand before turning and heading for the exit, taking care not to look over her shoulder as she went. _Flack will sure get a kick out of this._

* * *

Callen pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine, glancing at his watch before looking over at the diner. Twenty-eight minutes. Damn. Maybe the favours of the traffic light gods had been short-lived. Not seeing Kimberly in the parking lot he pulled the key out of the ignition and was just about to get out of the car when the door to the diner opened and Kimberly stepped outside. He raised a hand to wave slightly and she started making her way over to him. He flicked the lock switch so she could open the passenger door and watched as she slid into the car. "Sorry I took so long. Traffic's started getting heavier again."

Kimberly grinned as she shut the door and put her bag on the floor between her feet. "Don't worry about it. I hadn't even noticed what the time was if I'm honest." She clicked her seatbelt into place as Callen started the car and pulled out of the lot. He saw her raise her hand briefly and when he turned his head he saw a man standing at the front of the diner return the gesture.

"Making friends?"

"Yeah, something like that I guess." He saw her rub her hand slightly out of the corner of his eye. He also noted said hand was looking rather red, but refrained from saying anything. "I would have brought you a coffee but the after looking at it I thought dehydration would be a better way to go." She saw Callen raise an eyebrow. "Anything beats poisoning right?"

Callen swallowed slightly. "Yeah. It certainly does."

Kimberly shrugged slightly. "Sorry, I'm suffering from sleep deprivation, and I tend to ramble a lot when I'm around strangers."

Callen did have to laugh at that. "Don't worry about it. If you met some of the people I work with you'd find I'm more than used to it." His mind drifted slightly to the two analysts and the detective on his team.

Kimberly nodded. "I guess I can say the same about my own team. But usually they're the ones who have to put up with me, rather than the other way around." She paused briefly. "So you probably get this all the time but I have to ask. How long have you and Agent Hanna been partnered?"

Callen snorted. Yes, it was a question they were asked on a regular basis. "What are we now, 2015 so…seven years…maybe eight. In all honesty I've kind of lost track, but it's the longest partnership I've ever had."

She whistled. "Wow, eight years. And you haven't killed each other yet?"

"Not for lack of trying." She looked over at him with a questioning glance. "All in the line of duty of course." He added quickly. "Several times it's come rather close. Though usually it's me on the receiving end."

Kimberly grinned. "That sounds very familiar. I'm always the one who ends up looking down the barrel of a gun. Drives my boss mad. It's probably why none of my partnerships have lasted more than eighteen months."

Callen stole a glance at his passenger as they waited at yet another set of traffic lights. She was staring out of the window, her left-hand tapping absently against her thigh. With the air-conditioning on, the strands of her hair that had come loose were waving gently in the breeze, brushing against her neck. Kimberly turned her head slightly as caught him staring at her raising an eyebrow slightly.

He cleared his throat and flashed a grin at her, turning back as the lights changed. She grinned slightly, biting her lip as she turned back to look out of the window.

* * *

What the hell was he doing?! _You've known her for all of two hours you idiot. Get your head out of the gutter._ After the whole fiasco with Joelle at Christmas he wasn't even thinking about contemplating anything with a woman. In his line of work he just could not do it. And after Tracy he did not get involved with law enforcement. Just no.

She was beautiful though. And damn it if a man couldn't observe. He wasn't dead. Yet.

* * *

Okay so he was sort of hot. In a rugged, semi-urban way. If that was even a term. The first thing she noticed about his was his eyes. The eyes are the windows into the soul, she had read once, and with Agent Callen it certainly seemed to be true.

With her face turned away from his she stared resolutely out of the window, her eyes darting to his reflection every now and then and she silent cursed her screwed up sense of luck that she was here. On the other hand, she was glad she was, because damn it she wasn't dead; it was nice to be able to be in the company someone like Agent Callen. Hell, even that guy in the diner, Don, wasn't all that bad looking. At the same time she knew she could never get involved with him. Callen that was. Not only did they live on opposite coasts but after Willian…she just couldn't.

But there was no harm in looking. Right?

* * *

It took them another twenty five minutes to reach LAX, the traffic more or less co-operating for a change. Callen pulled into the drop-off zone and killed the engine. Kimberly rubbed her eyes before turning to look at him, smiling softly. "Thank you for the ride. Certainly a lot cheaper than a taxi."

Callen grinned. "And quicker. Traffic in this city is a nightmare."

She shrugged. "No more so than Manhattan. It's nice to have a change of scenery though. And blue sky, I'd almost forgotten what it looked like."

Callen laughed at that. "Well it's definitely one of the nicer places I've worked in, which is saying something." He pulled a thick file out from the backseat and handed it to her. "That's copies of all the paperwork we have on the militia. And this has all of our electronic data on it, everything our analysts could find." He pulled a flash drive out of his jacket pocket and handed it over, watching as she put everything in her bag.

"Thank you. Truthfully I have no idea if any of this is going to be helpful, I just have a gut feeling you know? My boss just wants me to make sure it isn't anything more than it appears to be."

Callen nodded. "Well from what I can tell I don't think the two cases are related. We weren't able to tie those involved in with anything else that has happened in America. If we find anything though, we'll be sure to let you know." He pulled out his wallet and handed her a card. "If you do find anything, would you let us know?"

Kimberly nodded as she took the card. "Of course. And yes, if you could do the same that would be brilliant, thank you very much." She pulled out her purse and was tucking his card away whilst pulling out one of her own to pass to him when he caught sight of a photo. It looked like it had been taken at a wedding.

"That your family?" She glanced at the photo and smiled slightly, running a thumb across the picture.

"Sort of. My personal life is several kinds of complicated."

"You're not the only one. Trust me."

Kimberly looked up at him and grinned. "Thank you Agent Callen. I'd better get going. If I miss this flight I will be planning my own funeral."

She opened the door to climb out, as she did so his mouth started working before his brain engaged. "If you ever come back this way I'll show you some places that are far more interesting than our old boatshed."

Kimberly laughed as she closed the door, waiting for him to roll down the window and she leant in slightly. "I might just take you up on that Agent. Likewise, if you're ever in New York…" she trailed off, winking at him.

He grinned. "It was nice to meet you Detective."

"You too Agent." With that Kimberly straightened up and headed over to the terminal, forcing herself not to look back at the man who was blatantly ignoring the sign saying he couldn't stay there for more than five minutes.

Callen couldn't help but shake his head. Gah! What the hell did he just say that for? Watching her walk away though, he couldn't help but feel a slight tightening in his chest. Determined to ignore it he started up the car and went to put it in drive when something in the foot well on the passenger side caught his eye. Frowning he reached over for it, knowing full well the car had been clean when he had gotten into it earlier.

It was a photograph, fairly old judging from the wear and tear it had sustained. Callen unfolded it and gently eased out the creases. The picture was faded but he was able to make out three people; two women and a man. The younger woman he instantly picked out as Kimberly – there was no way he could mistake the hair. The man stood behind her, one arm wrapped around her shoulders in what appeared to be a warm embrace. His other arm was around the second woman who was also holding Kimberly in a warm embrace. How they got into that position was a mystery, Callen wandered idly even as he was trying to make the woman out. He had to squint to make out her face; the camera focus wasn't all that great. When his brain finally registered who the woman was he gasped. Impossible!

Callen was scrambling for his phone as he tried to get out of the car, cursing his luck for the umpteenth time as an airport traffic warden appeared by his side. Before she could say anything he flashed his badge at her. "Federal Agent" was all he said as he snapped open his phone and pressed quick dial, praying he wouldn't be kept waiting, and brushed past the warden, running into the terminal whilst looking around for the cop. She was in a hurry so he made a split-second decision and began heading towards the check-in desks.

A click on the other end of the time was followed by the calm voice of his Operations Manager. "Yes Mr Callen? I hope you're not driving…"

"How much do we know about Detective T-Driscoll Hetty?" Callen cut her off, scanning the crowds as he walked further into the building.

"Enough Mr Callen, why do you ask?"

"Because I've just found a picture that must have fallen out of her bag in my car. There's three people in it, one of them is her."

He heard Hetty sigh down the phone. Not seeing Kimberly at any of the check-in desks he started to head over to the security checkpoints. "And who are the other two people Mr Callen?"

"I've emailed you a copy of the picture. You should have it now." As he said it the email icon appeared in the corner of Hetty's laptop. She clicked on it to reveal the image Callen was worked up over. "See anyone you recognise?"

Hetty's eyes glanced over the man and younger woman before coming to rest on the taller woman. Eyes widening she sank back in her chair.

There was silence on the end of the phone as Callen skirted around a crowd of Chinese tourists. Finally he head his Ops managers' voice as the security checkpoints came into view and he could see Kimberly standing in the queue, waiting to go through.

"Oh bugger."

* * *

She hated airports. Hated them with a passion. If she could get away with it she would drive. But driving from Washington to California wasn't exactly feasible. Fortunately she had been able to check in online when she had been in the diner earlier so she could avoid that queue. But there was no way Kimberly could avoid the security check; as a police officer it was more than crucial she went through the check point because she was carrying her service weapon, her backup and an extra clip. After last year, she wasn't going anywhere unarmed. Fortunately Kimberly was able to block out the people around her. She wanted to be able to sit down and start going through the files but the material was extremely sensitive; she would have to wait until she was back in her office in New York before she could start reading it.

When it finally came to her turn to pass through the checkpoint she took off the only piece of jewellery she owned – a long gold chain with a small pendant attached – and put it in the tray along with her bag. She then pulled her badge from her back pocket and handed it over to the security guard along with a letter of confirmation stating she was carrying a gun and was cleared to use it is she deemed it necessary. Just as she was about to present the weapon Kimberly heard her name being called; turning around she saw Agent Callen heading over to her.

Raising an eyebrow she watched as he ducked under the railings and came up to her, his face devoid of any emotions. She frowned, feeling a little concerned. "Is everything okay Agent…"

He cut her off. "I need you to come with me. Something…something's come up."

Kimberly let out a slightly startled laugh. "You're joking right? I can't, my plane leaves in just over an hour. I have to get back to New York."

"I know but this is from my boss. She needs…your help with something."

Her eyes widened in disbelief, even as she caught the pause in his words. "I'm sorry? What the hell is going on Agent Callen?"

Callen was close to just showing her the photograph and demand an explanation, despite what Hetty had said to him, when a tingling sensation crossed the back of his neck. Almost simultaneously Kimberly focused in on something over his shoulder, her forehead creasing before her eyes widened again, this time in alarm.

"Get down."

She grabbed his arm and yanked him down beside her, just as gunfire erupted behind them.


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm absolutely blown away by the response to this story. 190 views for 2 chapters, I'm in shock. Big thanks to Taisenokami for following this story and a huge thank you to EleleCrawford for following and adding it to your favourites, that means a lot to me.**

 **Next week's update may be a day late because I am changing time zones this week (going from China to England for a month :)) but will also be travelling from London to Cornwall next Monday. I will update this next week have no fear, just maybe not on Monday.**

 **xXx**

* * *

Chapter Three

 _"_ _Get down."_

 _She grabbed his arm and yanked him down beside her, just as gunfire erupted behind them._

* * *

Callen couldn't believe what was going on. One minute he was on the verge of arresting a woman he found just a little too captivating (stop it!), the next thing he knew he was crouching behind a desk with said woman as gunfire rained down above him. A hand left his shoulder and he glanced over to see the woman he had come charging into the airport after peer around the side of the desk quickly before pulling back.

Kimberly swallowed slightly, taking a second to breathe deeply before turning back to her companion. "I can't see how many of them there are. But it does look like their firing randomly in the crowd; this could be a random attack." At Callen's raised eyebrow she shrugged slightly. "What? I'm a cop, I pay attention. Maybe you should call your team. Even with airport security I'm not sure on our chances."

Callen was already in the process of pulling his phone out, nodding as he did so. "Yeah, though knowing them they're already on their way here. My boss had a sixth sense about these things." He didn't say they were already on their way to the airport following his earlier conversation with Hetty. "Hopefully we can get some more eyes as well." He hit dial and connected instantly to OPS. "Put me on speaker Eric, we've got a bit of a problem at the airport."

He could hear fingers racing over computer keys, and the screams and gunfire behind him. "Yeah we already know Callen. We've been trying to find you and the Detective on the cameras since you called earlier. The team's still twenty minutes out, reckon you can hold on that long?"

The crack of a gun being fired close to him had Callen spinning his head around to see Kimberly take one of the gunmen out with a single shot, leaving him feeling both impressed and disturbed. He hadn't even noticed her drawing her weapon or moving into a position to take the man down. Maybe he wasn't quite as ready for this as he had thought this morning. It was however too late to be thinking that now. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Find out how many of them there are, who they are and what they are doing here. We need LAPD too, there are still civilians in here, and see if any of the other agencies are sending anyone over." He hung up and scrambled over to Kimberly. "Backup's twenty minutes out, at least. Fancy sticking around that long?"

Kimberly turned her head slightly to glance at Callen, managing to keep the gunmen in her sights. "I have a choice?" She grinned at him. "Not a problem Agent. Now how do you want to play this out?"

Callen grinned. "Cover me." Without waiting for a reply he ducked behind her, counting to three before launching himself away from the desk to crouch behind another one a few feet away. A hail of bullets followed his journey but none of them hit him. Kimberly tracked his path out of the corner of her eye as she continued to watch the gunmen. Unfortunately she was unable to get any more shots off without alerting them to her position. She could already see that these men were not professionals; their shots were wide, scattered, they didn't seem to be aiming at anything in particular and they looked completely disorganised.

Callen pulled his gun out, feeling his phone vibrate with an incoming text. "So what now?" Kimberly hissed at him.

He read the text quickly before looking over at Kimberly. "There are sixteen of them that can be seen on the cameras anyway, so possibly more. They're all in this terminal but are spread out. LAPD can't come in guns blazing whilst there are still civilians that can be used as hostages."

Kimberly rolled her eyes in disgust. "How can they have that attitude yet call themselves cops? And who the hell says guns blazing?" Something was telling her that she wouldn't be leaving LA anytime soon. Kimberly hesitated for two seconds before reaching up to grab the container holding her bag and pulled it down. The security guard she had given her badge to had managed to drop it in the container, thankfully, so she grabbed it and clipped it into place on her belt. She picked up the necklace and stowed it in a pocket in her bag, and grabbed the spare clip along with her backup. She slipped her backup into the back of her pants before stowing her bag under the desk and slipped the clip into a pocket. Kimberly looked back over at Callen to see him taking down another assailant. Their eyes locked and Callen pointed at her before gesturing towards the southern part of the hall. Kimberly nodded, taking a second to slip her shoes off her feet before easing over to the other side of the desk. Heels were great for meetings, not for armed conflict. She would rather have her feet cut up from glass then twist or break an ankle because of heels. She could see instantly where she needed to go. Unfortunately, three gunmen were in her way. Showtime.

* * *

"How long until Mr Hanna and the others arrive at the airport Mr Beale?" The voice of the Operations Manager drifted through the room, preceding her arrival.

"Still another fifteen minutes out Hetty. They're going as fast as they can." Eric was tracking the position of the majority of the team whilst simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the Special-Agent-In-Charge. "FBI and Homeland are also getting teams into place…who is he talking to?"

Hetty looked over the tech's shoulder, watching the security footage he had hacked into. "I do believe she is the young woman Mr Callen and Mr Hanna met earlier, and the same woman I told Mr Callen to bring in. I need to ask her a few questions."

"Can we trust her Hetty?"

She sighed heavily, watching her Senior Agent, a man who mere weeks ago was laying at death's door. "I do not know Mr Beale. Not yet."

* * *

Callen knew that once he and Kimberly started trying to take out more of the shooters, the assailants would realise they were there. He also knew that, once they started shooting, more people were bound to get hurt. Civilians were desperately trying to find cover but there were so many of them, and naturally a lot of them were in the same part of the building as him. Standing up but keeping as low as possible, Callen edged towards the side of the hallway he was in, keeping his gun aimed down at the ground in front of him, ready to bring up at a moment's notice. He was hoping that any shots he had to take would not result in loss of life, but knew that if push came to shove, he would shoot to kill. Anything to protect the innocent's around him.

Watching the shooters intently as he made his way into the main hall, Callen could see one man's wild aim was about to take down several people in front of him; without hesitating he opened fire, tapping the man twice in the chest. He went down like a sack of potatoes and the group kept on fleeing. Another of the shooters turned to Callen, but his aim was wide and he met a similar fate as his companion. Ducking behind a pillar Callen saw a member of the airport police force try to take one of the men before being gunned down himself. Callen cursed, taking down another of the gunmen. Where the hell was the backup?

* * *

Kimberly had also managed to get to the main hall, having used a service hall as a shortcut. She had also started to get some of the civilians to go down the halls and out of the line of fire. Planting herself behind a column Kimberly was able to start taking out any shooter she saw. Like Callen she was hoping to merely incapacitate rather than kill but already she had taken the lives of two of the shooters who had been firing into a crowd containing several children. She was forced to dive behind a counter as one of the assailants noticed her and starting firing his gun (a freaking assault rifle by the looks of it) at her. Several civilians were hit as he tore into the counter, several bullets hitting the stone and sending debris flying. Fragments of stone cut into her arms and face, causing Kimberly to curse. This day really wasn't turning out how she had planned. Dropping down to lie on the floor she peered through the gap between the bottom of the counter and the floor. She could see the boots of the man as he advanced on her position. Aiming carefully Kimberly took a deep breath, waiting till the left boot lined up perfectly and pulled the trigger. A howl of pain told her she had hit her mark, followed by a crash as the man fell to the floor. Without hesitating she pulled the trigger again, tapping the man straight in the forehead. Not letting herself think about what she had done Kimberly immediately jumped up and moved onto her next target. Thinking about the lives she had taken would come later. Staying alive was the priority right now.

The sound of an empty magazine hit the floor as Callen re-loaded his gun. He didn't have anymore, hell he was lucky he had forgotten to take this one out of his jacket pocket this morning. He hadn't exactly expected to be in a situation like this today. If only his doctor knew what he was doing right now; Callen was pretty sure that this sort of experience wasn't listed under 'light duties'. Back to the here and now, he was down to his last clip and had to make every shot count. Unfortunately he was also pinned down; three assailants had him cornered, backed up behind a column with no clear shot. His phone started buzzing in his pocket and he pulled it out, hitting answer. "Sam, please tell me you're about to appear from around the corner."

"Not quite partner. We're outside but LAPD are in charge. They're insisting it's a hostage situation." Sam sounded frustrated, and if the situation wasn't quite so dire Callen would have laughed. As it was he let out a huff as another volley of bullets flew past him. How much longer until their guns ran dry? "What was that G?" Evidently Sam had heard the familiar sound of bullets passing by far too close to comfort.

"This er…hostage situation Sam. I'm pinned down here. Got three guys on me and no clue how many more there are." He got two shots off, hissing as stone fragments cut into his arm. "The detective we talked to earlier is still here though. Helping, but I've lost sight of her."

Sam grunted. "I'll talk to the guy in charge. FBI is here and Homeland is two minutes out so we have more than enough people to come in. He has to…" whatever else Sam was saying was cut off as the phone was, quite literally, blown out of his hand. Callen dropped to one knee and spun around, tapping one of the men twice in the chest. The other two concentrated their fire on him. Their aim was damn near accurate, making him think they could very well be in charge. He ducked behind a billboard, dodging more bullets as he went. He would be able to take out one of the men from this new position but it would leave him open to the other one. A flash from a balcony above him caught his eye briefly, which was followed by the all too familiar burst of gunfire. Callen could only hope he wasn't about to have to deal with gunfire raining down on him from above either. And where the hell was Kimberly?

A scream caught his attention and Callen brought his gaze back down to his current position. The latest round of bullets aimed at him, whilst missing him completely, had flown into a group of people behind him. Apparently at least one person had been hit, possible more. Callen was running out of time. And fast. He could probably take out the second shooter, but he knew that he was more than likely going to get shot doing so. Yep, Hetty was going to kill him. A glint of something red moved in his peripheral vision as he moved away from the billboard, barely aiming at his target before pulling the trigger and firing. The man dropped like a stone and Callen dropped as low as possible, waiting for the bullets to slam into his body. But although he had heard the gunfire, none of the bullets hit him. What he did hear, strangely, was the sound of several bodies hitting the floor, along with glass shattering against stone. Looking up Callen saw what he hoped was the last assailant on the floor, lying in a pool of blood.

"Ouch." The soft exclamation of pain amidst the screaming, shouting and sobbing had Callen's head turning around fast. Lying a few feet away from him, on top of the body of a man (who guessing by the clothes he was wearing was another other the assailants) was Kimberly. She rolled slowly off the prone form onto the ground, shards of glass crunching softly underneath her. Callen shot to his feet and ran over to her, dropping his gun onto the floor next to him as he knelt down beside her.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked softly, even though he knew it was a pretty stupid question. She had just fallen from a balcony that looked close to three stories high.

Kimberly nodded her head slightly, opening her eyes to stare at Callen. Her vision was a little blurry, her head and back ached and she was pretty sure she had twisted something. "Yeah, I'm good. But something tells me that might not have been the best idea in the world." She groaned as she pulled herself into a sitting position, holding her head as her vision swam. Callen's hand rested on her shoulder, grounding her as she swayed slightly.

"Maybe not, but it's the sort of thing I'm usually doing." He grinned. "How's the head?"

She shrugged slightly, grinning weakly. "Tough. Sore but tough. Like I said, I'm good."

Callen barked out a laugh. "Yep, definitely like me." He turned his head slightly as he heard in the distance shouts of _FBI_ and _LAPD_ echo. "Sounds like the backup's finally arrived." He turned back to Kimberly. "How many did you get?"

"Eight. I saw airport police take out two of them. And you?"

"I got six of them. Spent most of my time trying to get my team in…hang on. Eight?"

Kimberly shrugged slightly. "I was motivated? Guys aiming guns at civilians is a bit of a sore spot for me. Speaking of sore, I'm sitting on glass. Ouch."

Callen laughed again, standing up and offering her his hand. Kimberly took it and let him pull her to her feet. The room still span a little but as long as she stood still, she seemed to be okay. And kept her weight off of her left leg. So much for not twisting her ankle. "So what do you think that was all about then?" Callen asked her, letting her hand drop from his.

"Beats me, this is your city. You're the one who should be on top of everything, right?" Her voice trailed off as she looked around the room. It was carnage. Her brain suddenly stumbled on a thought and she looked back at Callen. "What were you doing in here Agent? Don't tell me you saw them outside, you came in before the gunmen started firing, said your boss wanted to see me?

* * *

Callen stared at the woman in front of him. He could lie, hell there were four lined up on the tip of his tongue. He was an expert at lying; practically his job title. And with the exception of Hetty (whom nobody could lie to) no one could tell when he was lying. But now? Looking down at the young woman in front of him Callen desperately wanted to lie. He didn't want to know the truth. But he couldn't do it. Before he could answer her however the sound of booted feet reached their ears. Callen grabbed his gun off of the floor and spun around, Kimberly at his side with her backup gun, both aiming at the newcomers.

"LAPD. Hands in the air."

"FBI. Do it now!"

Scores of police, SWAT and people wearing FBI baseball caps and bulletproof vests were spilling into the building. _About bloody time_ , Kimberly thought, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. A movement she immediately regretted as the room swam again. Lowering her gun Kimberly grabbed her badge and held it up as two officers approached them.

Callen straightened up and walked past the two officers, barely sparing them a nod as he tucked his gun back into its holster, his eyes focused on three people that had just entered the hall. The officers closed in on Kimberly, both taking note of her badge.

"I'm Detective T-Driscoll from the NYPD. I was here in the airport when things started going pear shaped, thought I would lend a hand."

"Oh really? And there's someone who can vouch for you, _Detective?_ " One of the officers asked with a sneer on his fact, and a sarcastic tone when he mentioned her rank; Kimberly wanted to hit him.

"Actually I can, Officer Mernandez I was escorting the Detective through the airport when these men opened fire on the civilians here." Callen's voice came from her right. She turned to face him, an eyebrow raised slightly at his lie as he glanced at her, his eyes seeming to will her to go along with him. Her gaze slid to the three people behind him; Agent Hanna and two others, the rest of his team she presumed. Sam smiled at her and she returned the gesture, honestly glad to see them.

"And what are you doing in LA?" This time it was Officer Mernandez's partner who asked the question, holstering his weapon as the LAPD and FBI worked to secure the rest of the airport and begin evacuating the civilians. Kimberly was aware of two FBI agents walking up to their little group as she turned again to answer the officer's question.

"Following up on a case with NCIS. They had a recent encounter with a group NYPD has…history with." Kimberly was starting to become aware of a slight ringing in her ears. "My boss sent me here to pick up any information NCIS had on the incident. Of course it wasn't something they could just mail in the post; a lot of that information would be highly confidential."

Sam nodded. "Yes, it is. Our boss told us this morning that Detective T-Driscoll was here to collect the information. Straight in, straight out."

Kimberly shrugged slightly, kneeling down to slip her gun back into her ankle holster. She bent her head to make it look like she was looking down at the floor but in reality she had to close her eyes to try and centre herself a little. The ringing in her ears had gotten more noticeable and her vision kept swinging about and blurring. She had a sneaking suspicion why and hoped to hell she was wrong. Taking a deep breath she started talking again. "It's been eight years since we've dealt with this group, but if they have resurfaced, we need to know." Kimberly opened her eyes and looked up at the officers. "It's quite a personal case for my team, and especially for my boss. It was quicker, easier and honestly safer if I just came out here to get the information."

"What is the name of this group if you don't mind me asking?" One of the FBI agents spoke up and Kimberly answered without even thinking about it. "The Celtic Militia. An Irish gang that we are pretty sure was active in New York eight years ago."

"And where is this important, confidential information?" Officer Mernandez stared down at her and Kimberly fought back a shiver. The man was a creep.

"In my bag, back at the security check point. Kind of hard to take down armed hostiles with a bag hanging off of a shoulder." The agents all smiled at that. "I need to go and grab it." Despite standing up slowly the room still lurched and the pain in her head caused bile to rise in her throat.

Callen noticed her face pale slightly and he frowned. "You okay?"

Kimberly nodded, swallowing down the nausea. "Yep, I'm fine." She started walking forward; ignoring the wobble in her left leg and trying to angle around the pain in the ass officer, only to have him grab her arm. "Excuse me, what the hell do you think you're doing?" She glared up at his too smug face.

"The airport hasn't been secured yet. And it's an active crime scene; you can't just go wandering around."

"This place is crawling with LAPD and FBI. I've just taken down eight of those idiots that were trying to kill everyone in this place whilst **you** were standing around outside taking your own sweet time getting in here. As for this being a crime scene, I'm a CSI you idiot." The man seemed momentarily confused and Kimberly inwardly cursed. "Crime Scene Investigator. I know all about crime scenes and how to behave in one. So let go of my arm before I break your fingers." Kimberly felt his grip slacken slightly so she wrenched her arm free and took a step back. But she hadn't looked behind her and stumbled over an abandoned suitcase. Normally she would have been fine but she had stepped back onto her left leg, which was still feeling funny and the merry-go-round in her head wasn't helping her balance issues. Her leg gave way completely and she would have crashed into the suitcase if a pair of hands hadn't grabbed her.

"Woah, easy there darlin'. I got ya." The voice of a man Kimberly couldn't place echoed in her head and she closed her eyes against the swirling vortex that the room had become. The hands holding her up were replaced with another, rougher pair and she sagged into them as they guided her gently down to the floor. Yeah, maybe she had hit her head a little harder than she had first thought.

Callen looked up from the Detective he was supporting to the concerned looking FBI agent. "Quick catch, thanks. Can you grab a medic? She's gonna need one, fast." The guy exchanged a look with his companion before nodding and taking off. Callen then glanced up at his junior agent and liaison. "Can you two go and grab her bag? She's right; we don't want it lying around." The partners turned and headed in the direction of the security checkpoints.

"What's wrong with her?" Mernandez's partner looked down at Kimberly in concern. Before Callen could reply the insufferable officer spoke up.

"Just trying to get attention. Typical woman, sulking when there are people that really need help."

Callen nearly punched him. "Tell you what. Go and jump off of that balcony _onto_ someone else and then tell me she's doing this for attention." With that he tuned the officers out and turned back to Kimberly, talking softly to her.

Sam was about to talk to the officers when another FBI agent made his presence known by clearing his throat. "Colby, why don't you take these officers and make sure all of the civilians in the departures lounge have been evacuated."

The second agent nodded. "No problem, shout if you need a hand." He gestured to the two officers to follow him away, practically dragging Mernandez and Sam shook his head. LAPD. Nothing quite like them. He turned to the remaining FBI agent.

"Thanks for that. I'm pretty sure someone was about to punch him."

The man shrugged slightly. "They still might if Colby has anything to say about it." Sam knelt down beside his partner and the FBI agent glanced down at the woman being supported on the ground. "Kimberly?"

Callen looked up in surprise. "You know her?"

The man shrugged slightly. "Barely. We met a little while ago. I only got her first name." He crouched down on the other side of Callen. "I'm Special Agent Don Epps."

"I'm Agent Callen and this is Agent Hanna. We're NCIS."

Don nodded slightly. "I'd say it's a pleasure, but considering the circumstances…" He trailed off, looking at Kimberly. "Hello again. You're not looking so great this time around."

Kimberly blinked her eyes open sluggishly staring at Callen for a minute before drifting to Don's face, her forehead creasing slightly in confusion, but she didn't say anything. Frowning Sam rested a hand against her neck, feeling for a pulse. "Her pupils are dilated and her pulse is slow. And there's one hell of a knot forming on the side of her head. She must have hit it really hard." He looked at Callen. "She needs a hospital G; she could have a pretty serious concussion."

"Find that medic, now" was Callen's reply and Sam nodded, straightening up and taking off to the closest exit where ambulances were pulling up by the dozen. Don shifted slightly so his hands were now resting on either side of Kimberly's neck, supporting it as her head lolled forwards slightly and Callen tightened his hold on her arms.

"Do you know if there's anything else wrong with her?" Don asked the other agent.

"Not sure, though her posture was stiff as hell and judging from the height of that balcony I'd be surprised if she only comes away with a concussion."

Don raised an eyebrow. "She really jumped off the balcony?"

Callen shrugged slightly. "I guess. I didn't actually see it; I was pinned down by two shooters. Took one of them out but it meant I was open to the other guy. I didn't get hit, but heard the sound of bodies hitting the ground. When I looked up my guy was on the floor, along with Kimberly who was lying on top of one of the other guys. Guess she used him as a pillow."

Don laughed slightly, though it was more in disbelief than anything else. "Christ. She's mad."

Callen grinned a little, about to reply when Kimberly's eyes rolled back into her head and her body fell completely limp in their arms. Don supported her neck and kept one hand on the back of her head whilst Callen eased her gently down to lie on the floor. Don continued to hold her head up whilst Callen changed position, moving so he could slide his leg under her neck and keep her head elevated in his lap. He glanced up. "Thanks."

Don nodded, stepping back slightly as two paramedics rushed up to them, Sam right next to them. He glanced down at his partner, raising an eyebrow at the new position. "Hetty is so going to kill you, you know that right?" Callen could only agree with him.


	4. Chapter 4

**A thousand apologies for not updating last week, I truly did try but travelling from one country to another and then from one side of a country to the other is very time consuming. I then decided to wait a week to make sure that the material I had was going to be good enough. So to make up for no chapter last week, this one is extra long (7,280 words :o).**

 **A huge thank you to everyone who has read this story so far, and an even bigger thank you to those who are following and/or have made it a favourite. That keeps me going :).**

 **Enjoy xxx**

* * *

Chapter Four

There was a persistent, steady and downright annoying beeping that was echoing just beyond the edges of her consciousness. It matched the pounding in her head…wait, she could feel her head. And promptly wished she couldn't because oh great gods, that hurt. And the blasted beeping was still there. Her fingers twitched, catching on the sheets that were twisted around them. Wait, what? Why could she feel sheets? The last thing she remembered…gods above, that beeping really needed to stop…was being at…oh crap. The airport!

Kimberly wrenched her eyes open, gasped when the light seared into her brain, and promptly shut them again. The glare caused the pounding in her head to intensify and bile to rise in her sore throat, _why is my throat sore?_ but the click of a switch echoed across the room and the light that was still seeping beneath the cover of her eyelids vanished.

"Sorry. We had no idea when you would wake up." The voice was soft, soothing against the pounding in her head. Her eyes opened slightly, her vision taking a while to clear. Finally she was able to focus in on the owner of the voice. "A-Agent Callen?" She groaned softly; her voice caught in her throat and she coughed, trying not to move her head too quickly. The sound of sloshing water reached her ears and a couple of seconds later she felt a straw being pressed gently against her lips. Lashes fluttered and her eyes finally opened again, focusing on the agent who was holding a cup of water with a straw against her mouth. Kimberly opened her mouth slightly and the straw slipped past her lips, allowing her to take a much needed drink without having to move her head too much. She swallowed slowly and the relief the cool liquid provided slipping down her throat was instantaneous.

Callen pulled the cup away and set it down on the table. He sat back down on the hard chair he had been sitting in since Kimberly had been brought in and gave the woman in question a smile. "How do you feel, Detective Taylor."

Kimberly bolted upright in alarm again, groaning softly as her head rebelled again. Callen couldn't help but laugh at her expression when she realised he was talking to her. "Christ above, don't do that. I thought you were talking to my uncle then." She fell back against the pillows with a groan, wincing as an ache in her back flared up suddenly.

"Don't you mean your boss?" There was a gleam in Callen's eye as he teased her, though in her state he was pretty sure she wouldn't catch it.

"Yeah…that's what I said. It's why I use Driscoll. My father's name." She rubbed her temple. "But call me Kimberly. Makes…makes everything so much eas…easier." She tried to pull herself up slowly into a sitting position to pick up the cup of water, but her back flared up with pain again and she gasped, stilling.

Next to her Callen shook his head, smiling slightly. "You truly are as bad as I am." He picked up the remote control for the bed, letting the head of it rise up to allow Kimberly to sit back somewhat comfortably. "Is that better?" She nodded slightly. "So how do you feel?"

Kimberly reached for the cup of water, taking a sip before answering. "I've felt better Agent. Fortunately, I've also felt worse."

"If I'm calling you Kimberly, you have to call me Callen." He chuckled. "You took one hell of a hit. Doc say's you were very lucky. From the height you fell, he was expecting your injuries to be much worse."

"Just how bad is it?" Kimberly coughed, having another drink. Gods, why was her throat so sore? "And when can I get out of here?"

Callen hesitated. "Well getting out of here might take a while. The doctors are probably going to want to observe you for a little longer." He saw Kimberly frown so he elaborated slightly. "You…you've been in and out of consciousness for nearly a day."

Kimberly's eyes widened and Callen was sure that if she could have, she would be shouting right now. "A day? What do…how?"

"Doc say's you have a grade 2 concussion. You were fully unconscious for about four hours, then you started to come around only to throw up all over a nurse and pass out again." Callen was grinning at the memory and Kimberly groaned, wandering if it had really been that bad. "You've been coming around a few more times; this is the first time you've been fully conscious and talking. Oh and not throwing up." Kimberly grimaced slightly; that would explain the taste in her mouth and why her throat felt so rough. "It's a relief you're finally lucid, it gets rather boring talking to an empty room." He waggled his eyebrows at her, letting her know he was joking. "From the way you've been moving in your sleep the doc was pretty sure you'd done something to your back. Nothing came up on the scans but when they checked a couple of hours ago they found massive bruising all down your back. They're pretty sure its deep muscle bruising and nothing else, but you're going to be sore as hell for a while. And you have also managed to fracture a bone in your left ankle, probably from when you landed. The rest is mostly superficial. Cuts, grazes and bruises etc. If they do let you go, you're going to have to be under observation, because of how long you were unconscious."

Kimberly sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes with the heel of a hand. "I don't know anyone here A-Callen. This entire excursion was only supposed to take a maximum of twenty-four hours. Now I've lost a day so god knows what the time is and I have no idea how or when I'm going to get home and my boss is going to kill me." Callen raised an eyebrow at her outburst and she sighed softly. "Sorry. I sound like a moody cow, but the truth is the lab simply cannot afford to have me stranded here. We are down too many people thanks to a bloody flu virus going around and have an overload of cases." She smiled wearily. "Like I said earlier, this trip wasn't supposed to happen until next week, but my boss suddenly tells me at seven in the evening that I'm catching an early morning flight out here because of the blasted Celtic Militia." Kimberly broke off, her brain suddenly catching up with her. "Oh crap."

"What?" Callen stared at her, not sure what was wrong now.

"Two things. Please tell me someone got hold of my bag."

Callen nodded, reaching behind him to pick up the bag his team had recovered at the airport. "Everything we gave you is in there. I've checked the files and nothing is missing. Your guns are both in there, cleaned and loaded." Now it was Kimberly's turn to raise an eyebrow. "What? I was bored." He put her bag down on the bed beside her. "What was the second thing?"

"Yeah. You said I've been unconscious for nearly a day?"

"About twenty one hours. It's just gone nine in the morning."

Kimberly groaned softly. "Great. Has…had anyone tried to get in contact with me?"

Callen noticed her hesitation and nodded slightly. He rummaged around in his jacket and pulled her phone out. "Yeah. When you collapsed we needed to get hold of your medical records. The only way to do that was to get hold of someone in New York. Before we could get into it though it started ringing. The caller ID said Mac." He broke off as Kimberly groaned loudly and he grinned. "Yeah, he was a little worried about you."

Kimberly snorted, then winced as the movement jarred her head and back. "Why do I get a feeling that's an understatement?"

Callen laughed. "He was all set for coming out here ASAP. Right up until someone on his end told him all of the airports have been closed. That's until it can be confirmed it isn't a terrorist attack. He told me to tell you to call him as soon as you wake up." He passed the phone over to her. "He seems very protective of you."

Kimberly smiled slightly, unlocking her phone. "Yeah, he is. He's my uncle, practically the only family I have. Christ he must be having a heart attack. Thank god Christina's with him." She sighed heavily, looking up at Callen. "So I'm guessing I won't be going home anytime soon. At least not until they open the airports back up."

He shook his head. "I wouldn't have thought so, no." He watched as she looked back down at her phone and saw her staring at a picture of a large group of people, her team possibly? "Look, if you really don't want to stay here and the doc lets you go, you can always crash as the office. We've got some great couches."

Kimberly looked back up at him with a cocked eyebrow. "Your super-secret office that is so secret you hold meetings with people outside of your agency in an old boatshed? That office?"

Callen laughed at her description. "Yeah, that'll be the place. There's always people coming and going there, so plenty of people can keep an eye on you. It'll be a lot more comfortable than staying here any longer than you need to, and I doubt the doc would want you to go to a hotel, just in case something happens."

She sighed heavily; he was right. She hadn't been awake all that long and already she was sick of the hospital. She didn't want to spend any more time there than she needed to, and she had already known a hotel would be out of the question. "What about your boss? She'd be okay with this?"

Callen laughed out loud at that. "She was the one who suggested it. And even if you say no, she will still find a way to get you there. Honestly? It's just easier to say yes. Hetty always gets her way."

Kimberly couldn't help but grin. This Hetty sounded a lot like someone she knew. "Well…okay then. Now do you have any idea when I can get out of here?" She shrugged at Callen's raised eyebrow. "What? I don't like hospitals. Are you telling me you do?"

"I didn't say anything," was his reply. "The doc should be in any minute now. And will probably tell you everything I just said."

"Fantastic." Kimberly rolled her eyes, then groaned and promptly shut them. "Okay, no eye-rolling. Not a great idea there K."

Callen was still chuckling when the door opened and a man wearing a white lab coat and dark blue scrubs entered the room. He looked to be in his late twenties, with short dark hair, a hint of a beard and clear green eyes. He was carrying a clipboard with a handful of papers attached to it, a stethoscope was around his neck, and the tag on his coat identified him as Alex Richardson.

"Hey there Doc." Callen grinned. "How you doing?"

"Exactly the same as I was two hours ago you idiot." Alex shook his head, looking over at his patient and noted her eyes were open, and finally alert. So that was the reason for Callen's good mood. Not necessarily a good thing. "Hi there Ms. Driscoll. I'm glad to see you're finally awake." He smiled as he made his way over to the bed.

"Oh god, that's nearly as bad as calling me Detective Taylor. Driscoll is my aunt. I'm T-Driscoll. And Detective. But Kimberly is fine."

The doctor nodded. "Callen told me as much, but I had to make sure. You've been out of it for quite a while, but you certainly seem more alert now than you did the last time I saw you." He smiled at her.

Kimberly sat up a little bit more, determined to ignore the ache in her back, and noted for the first time the fabric cast encasing her left foot. Huh, she hadn't even felt that when she woke up. She looked up at the newcomer. "Callen's already filled me in on my condition. Now I know I'm coming off as rude and I don't mean to, and I have advanced medical training so I know what you're going to say, but I have to ask. When can I get out of here?"

Alex laughed, setting his clipboard down on the table. "Well not just yet Kimberly. There are a few exams we need to conduct now you're awake. We're also in the process of updating your medical file, and I'm going to want to take you for an MRI, just to be on the safe side. Once all that is done, and if I'm happy with the results of your scan, we might be able to get you out of here."

Kimberly sighed heavily. "I thought as much. Great. Well, arguing with you isn't going to change your mind is it Doc so what's first then?"

Alex raised an eyebrow, looking over at Callen. "Wow, an associate of yours that doesn't try to escape as soon as they see me? I'm in shock Agent Callen."

Kimberly looked over at Callen with a small smile. "So we have a little bit of a reputation do we?"

Callen had the grace to look embarrassed. "I think I'm gonna step outside. I need to make some phone calls." He glanced at Kimberly. "Do you want me to call your uncle for you?"

Kimberly nodded, throwing her phone at him. "That would be great, thank you. Tell him I'll call him myself as soon as I can."

Callen nodded and she watched as he left the room in amusement. "Gee Doc, he almost acts like he's scared of you. What did you do to him?"

The other man laughed. "Nothing. He just doesn't like hospitals. Although it could be because he knows he technically hasn't been cleared for active duty yet." He noticed Kimberly's confused stare so elaborated a little. "I'm one of a few medical personal here who knows who and what Agent Callen and his team are. So whenever one of them is injured enough to warrant a hospital, yours truly has the task of taking care of them."

Kimberly nodded. "That makes sense. And I do not envy you your job in the slightest. Well then Doc, let's get on with it shall we?"

"Only if you call me Alex. I've got images of Bugs Bunny running around in a lab coat and scrubs in my head."

Kimberly laughed softly, wincing slightly as the ache in her head flared again and swallowed down the feeling of nausea.

* * *

"Alright Lieutenant, thanks. Keep us updated on any changes? Will do." Callen ended the call and slid the phone into his jacket pocket, rubbing a hand over his eyes and taking a sip from the bottle of water he had. God he could kill for a coffee, but he knew that Hetty really would do away with him. Until he had completed the medication he was on (thanks again CDC) he couldn't have any caffeine or alcohol.

The call to New York hadn't helped much. Kimberly's uncle had been determined to come out to LA and had demanded to talk to Kimberly. Eventually, once Callen had explained what was happening now, he had calmed down, but was insistent that he be kept in the loop on everything. And wanted the number of Callen's boss. He was a little hesitant but eventually gave the man Hetty's contact number. She could deal with him. Callen ended the call soon after. He was jolted out of his train of thought at the sound of his phone going off again and he groaned. But tempted as he was to ignore it Callen knew somehow he would not be getting away with it.

Putting the bottle down he dug in his pocket for the offending piece of technology and pulled it out. Hetty. Great. She really was psychic. He tried to supress the sigh as he answered the phone. "Hey Hetty."

"Good morning Mr Callen. How is everything going at the hospital?"

"Okay. Alex Richardson's in with her now, going over some tests now that she's awake. I talked to him before she woke up though and he sounded positive about everything. The only thing he seems to be insistent on is the twenty-four hour observation and no flying until he clears her because of the concussion."

"I see. Well I imagine Dr Richardson is going over all of that now. I have just reassured Detective Taylor that his niece is in safe hands and we will let him know if anything happens."

Callen grimaced slightly at her words. "Yeah sorry for not telling you I gave him your number. He was insistent and before I could send you a message Lieutenant Peters called me."

"It is not a problem Mr Callen. Now, have you had a chance to talk to Ms Driscoll yet."

"Kimberly? No not yet. She had asked me why I had followed her yesterday when we were at the airport, but that was before FBI and LAPD finally stormed the building. Took them long enough."

"Yes, Granger is trying to get to the bottom of that as we speak. A team from the FBI is working with Mr Hanna and the rest of your team to find out who these perpetrators were and what they were trying to accomplish. Are you taking care of yourself Mr Callen?"

Callen rolled his eyes. Hetty was in her mother hen mode again. Fantastic. "Yes Hetty. I've managed to brush my teeth and everything." The silence that followed his comment was cringing.

"Very well. Bring her back here when she is discharged Mr Callen. I'm sure the FBI and LAPD will want to talk to her but we need to find out what is going on with that photograph."

"Sure thing Hetty. I'll let you know when I have an idea of when we are leaving."

Callen ended the call and stared at his phone for a minute wandering if it would go off as soon as he put it back in his pocket. "Callen." He looked up to see Dr Richardson walking towards him. Callen shoved his phone away and stood up to meet him. "Everything looks okay Callen. She's responded well to all the tests and her results were what I was expecting. She's being taken for an MRI but I'm confident that swelling we saw yesterday has gone down. She will have one hell of a headache for a while and flying is out of the question until I clear her. Hopefully it will only be a week, then she can come back in for a check-up and I should be able to clear her then."

Callen nodded. "Okay, how long will it be now?"

Alex shrugged. "Well it all depends on the MRI really. If it comes back clear then I will feel comfortable releasing her into your care. If anything comes up though, I would prefer that she stays here. It should be about twenty minutes until she's back from the MRI, and then I'll be back with the results in about an hour okay?"

"Okay then, I'll wait here for her to get back." Alex smiled and nodded before leaving and Callen sat back down, stretching his legs out with a groan. He had been in the hospital for far too long now and really wasn't enjoying it. Especially seeing as he was confined to one not all that long ago. Although it could be a little bit of guilt he was feeling, seeing as technically he should still be in a hospital himself right now. But he said he would wait here for Kimberly, and he knew that she didn't know anyone here in LA; if he left her now she would be on her own and that wasn't fair, especially after what she did at the airport.

Well that and the fact that he couldn't let her leave until they had found out the truth about that blasted picture. Callen pulled it out of his pocket and unfolded it, looking down once again at the photograph. What the hell was going on? They still didn't have an ID on the man in the picture, but none of them needed to run facial recognition on the two women. The younger one was definitely a younger Kimberly. The older one…Callen's blood still ran cold as he looked at her. How was this possible? Was Kimberly related to her? But they looked nothing alike, nor did they sound alike. So why was her picture in this woman's bag? None of this made any sense. And that was what Hetty wanted Callen to find out. If he could. If not, then it would be up to Hetty. And gods help this gorgeous Detective if it turned out she was hiding something. Callen stilled. Wait, what? Gorgeous? Where in the nine hells did that come from? Sleep deprivation. It had to be.

"Agent Callen?"

His eyes flew open. Huh…he could have been sure they had been open the whole time. Maybe he really did need to get some sleep. He looked up at the slightly familiar voice and saw a man he met yesterday standing in front of him. Fed. Great.

"And you are?"

 _Not so polite there Callen_.

If the man was offended at all he didn't show it; instead he held out his hand. "Don Epps. We met at the airport yesterday."

Callen nodded, standing up again and shaking the man's hand. "Yes of course. Sorry, it's been a crazy…however long."

Don smiled slightly in agreement. "I've been working with your team, and your boss let us know that the woman, Kimberly, had woken up. I thought I would swing by and see how she's doing."

Callen fought not to raise an eyebrow at his statement. "Yeah she's awake, gone for an MRI at the moment. She had some swelling on her brain yesterday but the doc thought that was a result of the concussion. They wanted to wait twenty-four hours to see if she would regain consciousness before they decided on anything."

Don nodded. "Sounds fair. So how is she?"

"Coherent thankfully. The concussion's had her drifting in and out and throwing up most of the night but since she woke up a little earlier she's been fine. Gonna be sore as hell for a while and she won't be able to fly home until the doc clears her." Callen wasn't sure why he added that bit onto the end. He sighed again, rubbing a hand over his face and barely managed to supress a yawn. Something the Fed didn't miss.

"You look like hell. Have you slept at all?"

"You don't exactly look like a bucket of roses either. No, I'll sleep at some point."

Don loosened his tie and leant against the wall. "Where is she now?"

"Gone for an MRI. Should be back in fifteen minutes or so. But the results will take a little bit longer. About an hour, the doc said."

Don nodded. "Why don't you go and grab something to eat. No offence to them, but the food here is crap." Callen looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "I've spent a fair amount of time in here as well you know. I know just how bad the cafeteria is."

Callen smiled ever so slightly. "Thanks but I'm good. I said I'd wait around for her, she's gonna come back to our office when she's released."

Don snorted. "She's not going to be going anywhere for a while Agent Callen. Even if the doctors let her leave here today she's still going to have to wait for medication for her concussion isn't she. You said it yourself her results are going to take an hour to get back. Go and grab something to eat, get a shower and change your clothes. Trust me, you'll feel better afterwards."

Callen stared at the Fed. What the hell? The only people who said stuff like that to him were Hetty and…he chuckled suddenly. "My partner put you up to this didn't he."

Don grinned, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I can neither confirm nor deny any such thing."

Callen shook his head, glancing down at his watch before looking back up in the direction of the Detective's room. With a sigh he turned back to the Fed. "One hour, then I'll be back."

Don nodded. "Sure thing. What's her room number?"

"316."

Don nodded, watching as the Agent made his way down to hall towards the elevators. With a shake of his head he sat down in the vacant seat and waited for Kimberly to be brought back from her scan.

* * *

It was another twenty minutes before Kimberly was finally brought back to her room. Her head was pounding, her neck and back aching and she was feeling nauseous again. Though that could just be from all the moving around. And the noise from the MRI machine. Christ above it was loud. And confining. Really confining.

Fortunately the nurse who was pushing the wheelchair she was sitting in was aware of how lousy she was feeling and kept quiet as she took her back to her room. Once inside she pushed Kimberly over to the bed and made to help her back onto it. "No its okay, I've got it." Kimberly murmured softly to her.

The nurse pursed her lips slightly but nodded. "Just press the call button if you need any help." Kimberly nodded slightly and the nurse left the room. She let her head fall into her hands and sighed softly, massaging her temples in an attempt to alleviate her headache.

After a minute she dropped her hands onto the arms of the wheelchair, braced herself and tried to stand up. But the ache in her back flared suddenly and she bit back a curse, her broken ankle also giving off an angry throb. "Damn it." She cursed softly as she fell back into the wheelchair. Fantastic.

"Need a hand?"

Kimberly jumped slightly at the voice, then cursed again at the pain. Turning her head slightly she noticed a man standing at the door. He walked into the room and Kimberly finally recognised him. The guy from the diner. "How?"

He chuckled. "You were out of it yesterday weren't you." Kimberly looked confused. "I was at the airport. After the…incident."

Kimberly frowned. "What? Why were you there?"

He pulled out a leather wallet and opened it up, showing Kimberly his badge. "FBI."

Looking up at him Kimberly could dimly recall something involving this man and the airport, but it was too hazy. "Huh. You failed to mention that at the diner."

He chuckled. "Yeah well, I don't really go around advertising it to beautiful women I've only just met."

Kimberly flushed slightly at his comment. Oh great, her control over her emotions was embarrassingly bad today. "Um…this is going to sound really bad, but I'm blaming it entirely on the concussion. What's your name again?"

"Don. Don Epps."

She nodded. "Right. Um, why are you here?"

Don continued to smile softly. "Well I was leading the FBI team that stormed the airport yesterday. I remembered you saying that you were flying out so I was keeping an eye out for you whilst we were securing the scene. Then when I saw you talking to the police officers I thought I'd make sure you were okay. Which became very apparent that you weren't when you collapsed suddenly. I had no idea at the time you're a Detective."

Kimberly flushed again. "Yeah, sorry. I was…well, trying not to advertise who I was. Pot meet kettle I guess."

Don shrugged. "No problem." He walked up to her side and looked down at her. "So do you need a hand?"

She looked down at the wheelchair before looking over to the bed and sighed. "Yeah. My back really isn't happy with me at the moment. Neither is my head, or my ankle for that matter."

Don chuckled softly, bending down to let Kimberly put one of her arms around his shoulders. He wrapped his arm gently around her waist, trying not to put too much pressure against her back. "Ready?" He waited for her to nod before lifting her up slowly to her feet. Kimberly grit her teeth and tried not to moan as her back twinged, and soon she was standing upright. Fortunately the room stayed in one place and when she nodded again Don helped her to take slow steps forward before turning her around and lowering her down onto the bed.

She sank down with a sigh, her eyes closing briefly in relief. She took another minute before lifting her legs up and gently swinging her body around so she was reclining on the bed again. It was only then that she allowed herself to groan softly. "God that feels better. How can wheelchairs be so uncomfortable?"

Don grinned as he sat down in the seat next to the bed. "I don't know, but they are very good torture devices. Not that I've ever used one for such a thing." He added quickly when Kimberly looked at him. She laughed, wincing ever so slightly. "You still sore?" He asked softly.

Kimberly nodded slightly. "Yeah. It feels like there's a family of woodpeckers tapping out an Irish jig in my brain right now." She sighed again. "And that means I'm stuck here for god knows how long. Fecking typical."

He laughed slightly. "What would you be doing if you weren't stuck here then?"

Kimberly frowned slightly. "What is the time now?"

"Err…" He glanced at his watch. "9:55."

"So it's…12:55 back home…depending on whether or not I would be needed to attend a crime scene, probably just coming back from lunch. I would also be going over all of those files I came here to pick up."

"What is this information about? You mentioned it in the diner yesterday and then at the airport one of my team mentioned a police officer was giving you a hard time about it."

Kimberly laughed. "You know, I had completely forgotten about him. Prat." She sighed softly. "In all honesty I don't know how much I can say. Did you hear about a terrorist/hostage situation last month?"

Don nodded. "Yeah, at first we were told that they were Islamic extremists, but then the final reports were that they were actually Irish, and it was an attempt to steal some kind of weapon."

"Yes, that's about as much as I know. They were called the Celtic Militia, and very nearly succeeded, but NCIS managed to stop them just in time."

"Do you know why NCIS were involved in it? The FBI didn't know anything about it until after everything started happening."

Kimberly shrugged. "I have no idea. You'd have to ask them. I'm only here because they ran facial scans on some of the men inside the building _after_ the whole event and it was picked up by the NYPD. Two of the men were very similar to two men that were a part of a group that were operating in New York eight years ago. After spending two weeks battling through legalities and red tape my boss was finally granted permission to obtain a copy of the files NCIS has on this Militia. It was a really personal case for him; he came close to dying when the lab blew up. Don't ask." She grinned at Don's facial expression. "Anyway, someone else was meant to fly out here next week to pick them up but then life interfered and it was me who came out today. Yesterday even. Gah, it's really annoying that I've lost a day."

Don laughed slightly. "I know that feeling all too well. But why is the NYPD so interested in a group in LA?"

"Well like I said it happened eight years ago. It was about six months before I officially joined the team." She coughed and Don immediately refilled the cup with water and passed it to her. "Thanks." She took a sip. "What started out as the largest drug raid NYPD has ever undertaken turned into a hostage situation, and whilst that was happening the leader of this group had managed to infiltrate the lab where the drugs were being held and tried to take them back. It didn't work and all but two of the men who were involved died. The two that didn't die managed to escape and went underground, and no one has seen hide or hair of them since. We knew that those who died were the key players in the gang but the remaining members disbanded and disappeared. NYPD tried to track them down but we had limited resources, were understaffed and had major budget issues back then so we couldn't track them. Until four weeks ago, when a computer programme that another CSI and I created sent out an alert saying that someone was trying to find out the identity of a man. Now that isn't anything new, but this programme has stored in it the names, faces and critical information of people the NYPD is on the lookout for. If anyone, anywhere in America enters information that is similar to that which is in the programme, or is trying to _find_ information it sends me an alert. The names and pictures that popped up on my computer screen didn't stand out. The name was Liam O'Boyle. It was the information that was tagged onto his file that caught my attention: _Wanted in connection with raid on NYPD Crime Lab, 2007_. As soon as I saw that I made the connection and called my boss."

Kimberly cleared her throat and took another sip of water whilst Don processed all of everything she had just told him. _Holy hell_ he thought.

Before he could say anything else another voice rang out. "Well that explains how you knew about the attack. We were wandering how the police force in New York knew about what was happening in LA." Both Don and Kimberly turned to the door to see Callen leaning against the frame, smirking slightly.

Don looked down at his watch with a frown; he was pretty sure it hadn't been an hour since he had last seen the agent, but he couldn't exactly order him around. With a small sigh he stood up, grinning at the other man. "Yeah, sounds like they have better technology than the Bureau does. Makes me feel a little jealous."

Kimberly laughed slightly. "I'd hardly say that. Just a couple of people who like to play around with the equipment and programmes that we do have and make them more efficient." She winked at Don.

Callen walked further into the room and sat down on the remaining chair. "Has the doc been back in yet?"

Don shook his head. "No not yet. Should be soon though." His cell rang suddenly and he glanced at Kimberly. "Sorry, I'll be outside."

Kimberly shrugged slightly, biting back a wince of pain as the FBI agent got to his feet and walked outside, pulling his phone out along the way. Callen looked over at the Detective. "How are you feeling? Truly?"

She sighed. "I ache. A lot. And I'm not sure what hurts more, my back or my head. Can't feel my leg much though, which I'm going to take as a good sign. Honestly I just want to get out of here. I really do hate hospitals."

Callen laughed slightly. "Yeah, you and me both."

Kimberly was about to reply when a quiet knock on the door alerted both of them to Alex standing in the doorway. "Is this a bad time?" He asked teasingly, having heard both of their comments about hospitals. "I can always come back in a couple of hours."

Kimberly laughed slightly. "Try it Doc, and I may have to do something I will inevitably end up regretting." She smiled at him. "Please tell me you have my results."

Alex nodded as he stepped into the room, eyes flickering briefly to Callen before turning back to Kimberly. "You will be pleased to hear that I do indeed have your results."

There was a brief silence in the room before Kimberly broke it, trying not to sound too impatient. "And?"

Alex laughed as he pulled images of her scans out of a folder. "Why don't you have a look. This scan was taken yesterday when you were first brought in." Kimberly reached out to take it and held it up to the light to be able to see it better. It did mean she had to squint her eyes a little against the harshness of the light, but at least she wasn't straining to see the scans. "As you can see there was some significant swelling in the cerebellum and was pressing up against the brainstem. Because you didn't lose consciousness straight away we initially diagnosed you with secondary traumatic brain injury. But after talking to your uncle on the phone and a closer look at the scans it was downgraded to a mild/moderate TBI. The reason why you were unconscious for so long was probably a combination of the injuries, medication and exhaustion. He said you had been working yourself into the ground recently." Kimberly flushed ever so slightly at his words, silently berating her uncle. "We decided to wait, either for twenty-four hours or until you regained consciousness, whichever one came around first, before we redid the scans to see what was happening with the swelling. If it had gotten worse than we would operate. But a lot of the time brain swelling will decrease by itself and there is no need for surgery. The brain really is a strange thing."

Kimberly looked closely at the areas Alex had pointed out and could indeed see that there was pretty major swelling at the base of her…no the brain. This wasn't her brain; it was the brain of a patient. That thought would keep her sane. Mostly. "And the results of today's scan?"

Alex grinned, handing her a second film. "Just take a look."

Again she held the film up to the light and could instantly see a difference. The swelling had greatly reduced and the cerebellum was no longer pressing so tightly against the brainstem. The swelling hadn't gone down completely yet though, not that she was surprised. "What are these?" Kimberly pointed to a couple of dark patches on the scan.

Alex pulled out another film from the second scan just as Don came back into the room. "Epidural hematomas. But they are very small, and haven't grown since the scans from yesterday. Surgery isn't needed, mainly because of their size. They're small enough to be absorbed back into the brain naturally, and the surgery would just take longer to recover from. But they are the main reason why I don't want you leaving LA for at least a week. We need to keep an eye on these hematomas, just in case if they do start expanding."

Kimberly nodded. "Of course, that makes perfect sense. But there is something you haven't told me Alex. When can I get out of here?"

The doctor laughed. "Officially I have to recommend that you stay here so we can monitor your condition. You would probably stay for a couple more days, by which time the hematomas will more than likely have dissolved. There is of course the chance that they could expand and if they do, we will take you into surgery and remove them. But as I said, that is what I _have_ to say. In my opinion, there is no harm in you leaving the hospital today, as long as there are people around you who are versed enough to recognise the signs of the hematomas expanding. Those signs include confusion, dizziness, varying levels of alertness, continued nausea and or vomiting, seizures etc. Those are the main concerns but I can give you a list of all of the symptoms. If you do start experiencing any of these you must come back here straight away. Otherwise the consequences…"

"…could be fatal, I know the drill Alex." Kimberly cut him off. "Agent Callen has already mentioned that I can stay with him until I'm medically cleared. Apparently he's been all but threatened to get me to go with him."

Callen laughed slightly. "Well I wouldn't say that but…well, you've met Hetty Doc."

Alex laughed, mimicking a shudder. Don spoke up at that moment. "She sounds…interesting. Look I'm sorry I have to go. Team briefing. I'll call with updates later."

Callen nodded at him. "Sure thing. And thanks for earlier."

Don shrugged slightly before turning his attention to Kimberly. "I'm glad you seem to be okay."

Kimberly smiled at him. "Yes, thank you. And thanks for dropping by, it was nice to see you again."

Don grinned in reply. "If you want to meet up again at all, call my cell." He handed her a business card. "That gets my attention far better than a possibly terrorist attack."

Kimberly laughed. "I didn't exactly plan that you know, but I'll keep it in mind."

Don laughed as well, nodding at Callen and Alex as he left the room. She turned her attention back to Alex. "So I can get out of here today?"

Alex nodded. "I'm just waiting on the pharmacy to send up some medication for you to take, mainly to ease the pain in your back but there is also an acetaminophen to help with the headaches you're no doubt already experiencing from the concussion. As soon as you get those, you're free."

Kimberly smiled in relief. "Thank you Alex. And I need to come back in a week for a follow-up?"

He nodded. "Yes, you'll have another MRI to check the swelling and hematomas. If it's clear, you'll be free to fly home."

Kimberly's smile was radiant. "Thank you so much."

Alex shrugged, smiling at both Kimberly and Callen before leaving the room. She looked up at Callen with a smile. "Finally."

Callen laughed. "Yes. Though you might want to be wearing something a little less, well…"

He broke off and Kimberly smiled slightly, glancing down at herself. It was true; she was wearing a hospital gown. Great.

"Where are _my_ clothes?"

Callen shrugged slightly. "Dirty, torn, bloodied. And they had to cut up your trouser leg to get to your ankle properly. My boss told me to give you these." He handed her a bag. "Need a hand?"

Kimberly laughed before shaking her head. "No thank you. I think I can manage just fine Agent Callen."

He grinned at her. "I'll be right outside. Shout if you need any help."

Kimberly nodded, waiting until he had gone outside and shut the door before opening the bag and pulling out a pale green shirt, a slightly darker green tank top and a pair of loose cotton trousers in black with a flare in the leg. Probably to accommodate the cast. At the bottom of the bag was one tennis shoe. Kimberly laughed softly. She had a feeling she was really going to like meeting this elusive Hetty person.


	5. Chapter 5

**Fingers hurt. Fingers hurt a lot. I've had scattered notes and half-finished copies of this chapter for a month, and finally I have finished it and am happy with it. Thank god. Wasn't sure I would ever get it done. Just so glad I don't have to do any translations on this story. Yet :/.**

 **Thank you so much everyone for being patient; I realise it has been a long time since I last updated this story. Should never have gone on holiday** **J** **. Had an absolutely amazing break, but now I am back and ready to rock and roll.**

 **I must say I am absolutely blown away by the response to this story. I cannot believe how many views I've got, and combining that with the reviews, followers and favourites I'm sitting here in a state of shock. Thank you. Thank you so much. I never thought I would get more than two hundred views for this** **whole** **story and I've got five hundred and fifty with just** **four** **chapters. Words cannot describe how that makes me feel.**

 **On with the show. Or story. Enjoy** **xxx**

* * *

Chapter Five

Callen was playing with his phone yet again when a nurse came up to him and handed over a paper bag and a note. "Here you go sir. Dr Richardson apologises but an emergency has come up; he asked me to drop these off for you."

Callen nodded. "Brilliant. Thank you." He watched as the nurse walked away before unfolding the note. 'Kimberly needs to take the 400mg of Celebrex for the back pain tomorrow morning when she wakes up, followed by the 200mg dose 8-12 hours later if needed. In the following days she can take 200mg twice a day as needed. The Tylenol contains the Acetaminophen she will need to help with her concussion and the headache that follows. 325mg tablets with two to be taken every 4-6 hours. If her headache continues or worsens, or she starts to display any of the systems I listed earlier than she has to come back in straight away. I'm holding you to it. And you have not yet been cleared for active duty; get your arse back behind a desk. Alex.'

Callen snorted slightly, shaking his head slightly at Alex's veiled threat. He slipped the note inside his jacket pocket just as he heard Kimberly call out his name from inside the room. He opened the door slightly, taking care not to look inside. "You decent?"

Kimberly laughed slightly. "Mostly. I um…can you help with the…the top?"

He raised an eyebrow but opened the door anyway and slid inside the room, shutting it again behind him. He turned to see Kimberly holding a pile of green cloth in front of her and looked vaguely embarrassed. "Sorry. I can't lift my arms up high enough…" She trailed off, her cheeks tainted slightly pink.

Callen nodded slightly, noting to himself that as uncomfortable he felt right now had to be nothing compared to her. He walked over to Kimberly who handed him a dark green tank top. Unfortunately it wasn't one he would be able to slip on her from behind, he realised. "Sorry, don't mean to look…"

Kimberly shrugged a little, wincing at the movement. "It's okay. I doubt it's nothing you haven't seen before." She smiled slightly, holding out her arms so he could slide the top up them. He'd bunched the material up in his hands so gently eased it over her arms, making sure the shoulder straps were in the right place. He was mentally thanking Hetty that she'd chosen an extra stretchy top so he was able to pull it easily over Kimberly's head and let it fall down her torso. He'd taken care not to focus on the scars she had criss-crossing her chest and stomach, along with the ones travelling up her arms as he took hold of the paler green shirt and gently helped her into it.

Callen noticed that for whatever reason, Hetty hadn't included a jacket in the bag of clothing, so took his off and draped it around her shoulders. "Here, you'll need this out there. I know it's probably warmer than you're used to but it's still February after all."

Kimberly's smile was warmer this time as he helped her slide her arms into the jacket. "Thank you."

"No problem." He held out the paper bag. "Here, the Doc's sent over your meds. You ready to go now?"

Kimberly nodded, taking the medication and putting them in her bag. Callen picked the bag up before she had a chance to; grinning at the small glare she sent his way. "Yes, I've got everything I need. Thanks."

"No problem. Come on; let's get out of here before the good doctor changes his mind."

This had Kimberly laughing as they left the room and started slowly heading down the corridor towards the elevators.

* * *

"Didn't think I'd be back in this car quite so soon."

Callen looked over at Kimberly. She was once again sitting in the passenger seat of his car, and had been pretty quiet since they had left the hospital; he was betting part of that was to do with motion sickness. He was trying to make the journey as smooth as possible, knowing from first-hand experience that being in any kind of vehicle whilst suffering from a concussion sucked. So he tried to lighten the mood.

"Quite so soon? So you _were_ thinking about coming back then?"

Kimberly snorted, recalling that part of their conversation outside the airport…yesterday? "What makes you think about this specific car? Maybe I have one back home."

"Do you?"

She grinned. "No. And yes, I was thinking about being back in this car again."

Callen looked over at her to see the grin. "I can't tell if you're being serious or not. That's a first for me."

Kimberly laughed softly. "One thing you'll find Agent Callen, I'm rarely serious." Her smile faded slightly. "Though if I am completely honest with you, as much as I may like this car, I would much rather be on a plane right now."

He nodded. "I can understand that. And I'm sorry. But hey, you do get to see some more of LA now."

"Well yes there is that. And your super-secret base."

Callen snorted. "You're still going on about that?"

Kimberly shrugged. "What? I've never been in one before. Police don't work in secret bases and I'm a CSI. I spend nearly all of my time in a lab."

"Well then, here's hoping we don't disappoint." Callen turned off the main road, heading now down side streets.

Kimberly tried to keep up with the street signs but soon decided it was an impossible task; her vision was still a bit spotty and her head slightly woozy from the concussion. Despite this there was one question she needed to ask. "I'm surprised you haven't blindfolded me or anything."

Callen laughed. "Nahh, we only do that to people we don't like. Besides, you don't have any idea where we are do you."

She shrugged. "Not a clue, which I must admit is a tad disconcerting."

"Don't worry. I'm not an axe murderer." He glanced over at her and grinned as he said this.

Kimberly laughed at that as he pulled up in front of an old-style building normally found in Spain. The courtyard they had stopped in was tiny and, Kimberly noticed immediately, not the usual place people would park in. The buildings surrounding them were run down, not falling apart but they had clearly seen better days. Callen killed the engine and got out of the car, Kimberly following suit, albeit slightly slower. She looked around, staring at the red notice signs stating the buildings were deemed unsafe. "Huh. So what, you're hiding in plain sight?"

Callen chuckled. "You know, that was the first think I said when I saw this place for the first time too. But essentially yes, we are. This used to be a water plant admin building but was listed as condemned after the Northridge quake. On the outside at least. Inside, it's a whole other ballgame."

Kimberly snorted slightly. "You do know you lot are taking this secrecy thing to a whole new level right." Callen grinned but didn't answer, grabbing Kimberly's bag from the car and motioning for her to follow him. He noticed that as she walked around the car she tried to mask the limp she still had by walking slowly. He offered her his arm as a support and she took it with a grateful smile. With a small flourish he opened one of the wooden doors and let her inside.

* * *

Sufficed to say, it was not at all what she had been expecting. Of course looking back, she wasn't quite sure what she had been expecting, particularly after the boatshed, but an old-style Spanish missionary? Never. The corridor they were in led into what was once a beautiful enclosed courtyard. Now it was covered by a glass roof that somehow did nothing to dampen the beauty of the structure. Although he was silent, Kimberly could practically feel Callen shaking with laughter at her reaction.

"Yes, yes alright, very funny. Yes I'm impressed. Happy now?"

Callen grinned, turning her around slightly to face an enclosed area with four desks; three of which were currently occupied by his team. Kimberly remembered Sam and could vaguely recall the other two from the airport.

"This is where we spend most of our time when we're not on a case. Upstairs is our OPS centre. And behind you," he turned her around again, "that is where our boss works."

Sure enough Hetty was at her desk, with one of her infamous tea sets laid out in front of her. Callen led Kimberly open, helping her up the stairs. One of his arms brushed up against her back and he could feel how tense she was. From the pain, he guessed, unless she knew why they really wanted her there.

"Our Operations Manager Hetty Lange; this is Detective Kimberly T-Driscoll from the NYPD."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Ms Lange." Callen had to fight to stifle a laugh at the hesitancy in her address.

Hetty looked up at the younger woman and smiled warmly. "I've been hearing a lot about you Detective T-Driscoll. Please take a seat. Would you like some tea?"

Kimberly sank gratefully into one of the seats, letting out a small sigh. "Thank you, and yes that would be lovely."

Callen took the seat next to Kimberly and Hetty proceeded to pour out three cups. He reached over and picked up one, handing it over to Kimberly before taking one for himself.

"Well Ms Driscoll, how are you feeling?"

Kimberly had just taken a sip of tea and nearly choked on it in reaction to the title. That of course set of a chain reaction of pain as her body jolted forward slightly due to the supressed cough, aggravating her back and causing her head to pound. Her eyes watered and she said slightly breathlessly, "Please, it's Kimberly. Just Kimberly." Callen laughed whilst Hetty merely nodded, her sharp eyes taking in Kimberly's reaction. "I'm okay thank you. Would be better if I was on my way home, but beggars can't be choosers."

Hetty nodded, smiling slightly. "Of course. And have you talked to your uncle yet?"

"No," the younger woman replied. "I'll give him a chance to calm down first. I'll call him later." She sighed slightly, setting her cup down and rubbing her forehead. "He's going to kill me when I do manage to get back. This really couldn't have come at a worse time." She saw Hetty's questioning gaze. "We're down too many people at the moment, and he's supposed to be on holiday. Though I'm pretty sure he doesn't know what the word means."

Callen glance at Hetty before asking the question. He already knew the answer, having spoken to the man on the phone earlier, but he wasn't sure she was aware he knew. "What about your boss? Wouldn't he want to know how you're doing?"

Kimberly frowned; hadn't she told him this? Something niggled at the back of her mind but she couldn't focus on it. "Well, he kind of already knows. My uncle _is_ my boss. Detective Mac Taylor."

Callen nodded slightly. Almost on que Kimberly's phone started ringing in her bag. She pulled it out and groaned, her eyes closing. The caller ID read Mac. "Speak of the devil." She sighed, opening her eyes to look at Hetty apologetically. "I'm sorry; if I don't answer he's going to get more persistent."

Hetty nodded. "Of course, take your time dear." She stood up and gestured for Callen to follow her. As they left Hetty's office Callen could hear Kimberly murmuring into her phone; apparently her uncle wasn't particularly happy she had waited so long to call him. Hetty waited until they were in the bullpen before turning to him. "Mr Callen, do you still have that photograph?"

Callen nodded, pulling the paper out of his jeans pocket. He glanced at it briefly before passing it over to his boss. Callen then sat down at his desk whilst Hetty studied the photograph. She had, of course, seen it as Callen had emailed her a copy of it through his phone, but to see the original…well, it was certainly something else. It was an old photo but, as she and Callen had both seen already, Kimberly was immediately recognisable thanks to her hair. The two people standing behind her were not as recognisable. Well, the man wasn't. But the woman...Hetty looked up to see Callen and the rest of the team staring at her. "This is…"

"Complicated?" Deeks cut across her. "Because it is. And confusing. Definitely confusing."

"Yes Mr Deeks."

"Eric and Nell are running checks upstairs. What is going on Hetty?" The older woman turned to look at Kensi.

"In all honesty Ms Blye I do not know. She had a great many secrets, even from me. And I was never aware of all of her assignments; like Mr Callen she worked for many agencies because of her numerous skills."

It was Deeks who voiced the question they were all thinking. "Could this be a ploy? I mean, is the photo even legit?"

"That is what we need to find out. As soon as possible."

Meanwhile Callen had been keeping an eye on their guest, an action that did not go unnoticed by his partner. He spoke up suddenly. "Hetty, looks like she's finishing that call."

Hetty nodded, turning around to look at the woman. It did seem indeed that she was close to ending the call, which she did barely two minutes later. She turned back to her main team. "Mr Hanna, you and Ms Blye will continue working with the FBI team to determine whether the attack at the airport was an isolated incident. Mr Deeks I need you to go to the LAPD and see if they have any new information or leads, and pick up and electronic information they have for Mr Beale and Ms Jones." The two agents and detective nodded and got up to leave.

Callen traded a look with Sam before turning back to Hetty. "And what am I going to be doing?"

Hetty turned to her senior agent-in-charge. "You and I, Mr Callen, are going to get to know our guest a little better."

* * *

Kimberly sighed heavily, letting her phone drop down into her lap. She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers into her temples. It was another two hours until she could take any more pain medication, but her head was throbbing mercilessly and her back was starting to ache. The next couple of days were going to be hard work.

Mac had been understanding; thankful that he had at least been in contact with Callen whilst she had been unconscious, so had more reliable updates than the bloody press. His words, not hers. After she had finally talked to him he had calmed down considerably. Now he was just worried about her. As was Christine and the rest of the lab. Fantastic. Kimberly couldn't decide what was worse. Mac angry or Mac worried. Both were dangerous. A soft cough had her opening her eyes and looking around to see Hetty looking at her with soft concern. "Is everything okay dear?"

"Yes Ms Lange. He's just worried about me. Despite being in contact with Agent Callen he wasn't going to settle until he'd heard from me. If I'd made him wait any longer he probably would have been on his way over here. In all honesty I'm still kind of expecting that to happen." She smiled slightly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Have some more tea. It is chamomile and ginger; it will help ease your headache. And it's just Hetty." She sat back down, taking a sip from her own cup as she watched Kimberly do the same. "Now, Mr Callen will be back over in a couple of minutes; he still has an incident report that he owes me. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions Ms…Kimberly?"

The younger woman shrugged. "No not at all. Not sure what you want to know, but I'll do my best to answer."

"Mr Callen said that from what you have told him you have been a Detective for some time, and that you also have medical experience. Just how old are you?"

Kimberly winced slightly at the question. It was one that was asked fairly regularly and she shouldn't be bothered by it anymore but still… "I'm thirty one. I've been a Detective for seven years and a cop for ten…oh and have extensive medical training. You're not the first to ask, I look younger than I am. I graduated from med school when I was fifteen and entered the Police Academy at seventeen." She saw Hetty raise her eyebrows and shrugged in response. "I have a genius level IQ, and I get bored exceedingly easy. I've been working officially in the crime lab since I was twenty-four."

Hetty didn't say anything, like she knew there was more and Kimberly sighed. "I'm a fully decorated cop, and although I work primarily in the crime lab I also assist in the NYPD precincts if they need an extra pair of hands. I also help out in the Medical Examiner's office from time to time, and volunteer at the local hospitals if they're short staffed. Thanks to having a photographic memory along with that IQ, I can speak six languages besides English. And now you probably think I'm showing off."

Hetty shook her head. "No not at all. I will admit being slightly surprised that you are able to work underneath your uncle. I didn't think that would be allowed."

"Normally no but he isn't technically my uncle. It's…it's complicated."

"How so?"

Kimberly frowned. "Why do I feel like this is starting to turn into an interrogation?" Her cop senses, already starting to tingle a little, heightened when Hetty didn't answer her.

"Here's that report you wanted Hetty." Callen's voice behind Kimberly startled her and she automatically stiffened, her face tensing slightly at the discomfort. Callen cursed silently. "Sorry, I thought you heard me Kimberly."

She shook her head. "No it's okay. Don't worry."

Callen glanced over at Hetty before sitting down slowly; she obliged him. "Kimberly's just filling in a few points for me."

He turned to the younger woman who was starting to look like she would rather be anywhere than there. He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile and she sighed slightly before returning the gesture.

"Okay, this is probably going to be rather long-winded and I apologise. Mac Taylor…I call him my uncle although I suppose I could also call him my father. But we aren't related. I was adopted. I've never known anything about my birth parents and the earliest memories I have are of being passed from one orphanage and foster home to another, and never in just one state either; I went all across the country." Callen felt a pang of sympathy for her; he too knew exactly what it was like to not know anything about your family. "Finally, when I was eight years old, a man named Mark Driscoll adopted me. He was a private detective who worked in New York. Had been born in England and moved to America when he was a teenager. Anyway he was based with an agency that co-ordinated a lit with the police, so I guess you could say that my future was pretty much set from there. Not bad for a kid who didn't even have a last name for the first eight years of her life." There was a small smile on her face as she said this. "When I was eleven a woman came into our lives. Her name was Peyton Driscoll, my father's younger sister. She was a medical examiner for the crime lab, and became pretty embroiled in our family. Then not long after my fourteenth birthday…"

Kimberly broke off, taking a sip of lukewarm tea. Callen noticed that her hands were trembling ever so slightly, her movements had become a little stiff and her voice had slowed down minutely. Maybe this wasn't the right time to be doing at this, and he glanced at Hetty to tell her so, but she merely raised an eyebrow. That was enough to tell him she wanted Kimberly to continue. Which she did a minute or so later.

"One day my father didn't come home. He just disappeared. He had been working on a case that had taken him out of the state, which made it difficult for the NYPD, but his agency tried looking for him, opening investigations and what not, but it was like he had never existed. Mark Driscoll had disappeared off of the face of the earth." That rang a bell with Callen, but he stayed silent. "I was still a minor, but Peyton took me in. She was Mark's sister, and because he had officially adopted me she was legally my aunt, and he had her listed as my guardian should anything happen to him. By this point she was dating a man who working in the crime lab, Mac. They were all but living together, but it didn't bother me at all; if anything I thought it was great because I could start spending more time in the labs. It was the best way to keep a teenager who had already graduated high school and was set to pass medical school before long occupied. Everyone who worked there knew the situations and no one ever made anything of it. They became my family. It was obvious as well to everyone that as soon as I would be able to I was entering the police academy. I graduated med school when I was fifteen, then spent two and a half years _interning_ ," Callen snorted when she emphasised the title and she smiled a little, "as a lab assistant. Because my birthday is in April I wasn't able to join the academy when I turned seventeen; the new intake is in Januarys. And they were being lenient. It was only because of my IQ, memory and having Mac stand up for me that I could enter before I turned eighteen."

Callen sat in silence as he listened to her recap her life. He was stunned. This woman was a complete enigma, and they were only half-way through her tale. He refocused his mind onto the conversation as she continued. "I graduated the police academy in 2004 when I was twenty one, and decided to move away from the city. I know it sounds odd, most people want to move _to_ the city for their first job, but I wanted to prove to myself, and everyone else, that I would be able to make my way without anyone helping me along. So I got a job with NJPD. God that was a blast, we had so much fun. I still went back to the city a lot; I was training in the crime lab to become a CSI. Then the attack happened, three years later."

Kimberly broke off, her head beginning to ache more than before. She knew she still had a while before she could take anymore medication and that thought alone made her groan. She was also starting to feel nauseous, not that she was particularly worried though; nausea was a common symptom when dealing with a Grade Two concussion, and she suspected recounting her life to two strangers wasn't particularly helping either.

Both Callen and Hetty could see the distress mounting on her face. Callen rested a hand against the younger woman's shoulder and found it to be tight with tension. He sighed inaudibly; it was too be expected considering only a few hours before she had still been unconscious. But this was a situation they had to get to the bottom of ASAP. He looked over at his boss with a silent request and Hetty nodded. "Why don't we take a break and come back to this in a little while?" the older woman suggested and Callen nodded.

He took the teacup from Kimberly's hands and set it gently down on the desk. "Come on, let's get away from here for a bit." She nodded and he put his arm around her shoulders, supporting her as she climbed to her feet. He then led her down the steps and away from Hetty's office. He glanced over at the bull pen and saw that Kensi and Sam were back and Deeks was just returning. Glancing down at his watch he was surprised to see that an hour had passed, he'd been so caught up in Kimberly's story. "Hey, want to meet the rest of my team?" Kimberly nodded and let him take her over to the bullpen. "Guys, this is Kimberly, from the airport. I'm sure you remember Sam from the boatshed."

She nodded, smiling at him. "It would be hard to forget you Sam."

The big man chuckled. "Likewise. It's good to see you vertical again." She frowned slightly and he elaborated. "I swung by the hospital last night with some stuff for G; you look a lot better now." Kimberly grinned.

"This is Kensi Blye, probably the toughest person here." Callen winked at Kensi as she came forward, rolling her eyes at his banter.

"You have been spending far too much time with Deeks Callen," she threw back at him, smiling warmly at Kimberly. "Hi, didn't get a chance to meet you officially yet. I was very impressed with some of your moves." Callen hid his surprise; Kensi was being nice to another woman? What the hell?

Kimberly was frowning, but for another reason. "How did you…"

"We have a tech guy upstairs that can hack into just about anything. He's one of the best."

"Oh is he now?" Kimberly raised an eyebrow. "I feel like a challenge may be laid down soon."

"You can hack?" Kensi stared at the woman in front of her in disbelief. Kimberly shot her a grin.

"It's one of my talents." She glanced at Callen. "I meant it when I said I get bored easily." He laughed.

"If this is a competition then I'm choosing the prize." The lanky blonde-haired man walked towards her and stuck out his hand before Callen could introduce him. "Detective Marty Deeks. I'm sorry that my charms swept you off your feet back at the airport…ouch!"

Kimberly laughed as Kensi punched Deeks on the shoulder; the look on the faces of everyone there indicated that this was a regular occurrence. "Detective? So you're not an Agent?"

Deeks shook his head. "Nahh. LAPD through and through. I'm the official liaison between the cops and NCIS here in LA."

Kimberly nodded. "That makes sense. Smart too; wish we had something like that set up back home. It would make our cases with the armed forces a hell of a lot easier. And I'm guessing from everyone's reactions it's a regular occurrence…you sweeping women off of their feet?"

Deeks grinned, about to answer when he saw the look on his partner's face and decided against it. Meanwhile Callen was leading Kimberly over to a chair and they all heard the sigh as she sat down. "Thanks. I can't decide what is worse anymore. A sprain or a fracture."

"How's your head?" Callen asked the question softly. Kimberly's eyes, which had been so bright and clear when he had first seen them, had dimmed noticeably. From the pain, he imagined, more than anything else.

"Okay, I guess. Everything's a little bit fuzzy still and I'm starting to take longer to process things." Deeks and Kensi exchanged a surprised look; they thought she'd been communicating with them just fine, but a look at Sam told them this wasn't the case. _Christ_ , thought Deeks, _if this is what she's like concussed, what is she like firing on all cylinders?_ "I'll just be glad when I can take those meds and they finally kick in." She looked at Callen. "So what happened at the airport? I mean, who were those men?"

"That is what we are in the process of finding out. Right now this case is a joint task force between NCIS, LAPD, the FBI and Homeland as it is being treated as a possible terrorist attack." The group turned to look at the newcomer. Callen sighed under his breath and tried to keep the frustration out of his voice.

"Kimberly, this is Assistant-Director Owen Granger. Sir this is Det…"

"Detective Kimberly Marie Taylor-Driscoll. Yes I kno…"

"It's Kimberly T-Driscoll actually. I dropped the middle name when I legally took my uncle's name."

The look the Assistant-Director gave Kimberly was one that normally sent everyone save Hetty and Callen scurrying for cover. But Kimberly didn't try to backtrack or start fidgeting in her seat. Nothing. Instead she met Granger's gaze head on with one of her own. If any of them had dared to talk, Callen knew they would all be placing bets on who would break first. No one stood down Granger.

So it came as a shock to all of them when Granger cleared his throat and turned his attention to Callen. It was only through years of experience and working undercover that Callen was able to hide his emotions as well as he did. "Mr Beale and Ms Jones are still working to ID the gunmen. LAPD are going to be asking for a statement from you at some point Mr Callen. They will also want to speak to Detective T-Driscoll, along with the FBI I have no doubt." With that he left, heading off to god knows where. There was silence in the bullpen until Kimberly coughed slightly.

"Was I the only one who could feel the sarcasm when he said my name just now?"

Kensi and Deeks burst out laughing. Callen and Sam both looked at her, wide-eyes in shock yet also with appreciation.

"He's just like that with everyone. But the only people I've ever seen challenge him like that are Hetty and Callen. And only Hetty has been known to beat him, occasionally."

Kimberly raised an eyebrow, looking at Sam in disbelief. "Huh."

"Why did you do that?" Callen asked her, clearly unable to process what he had just seen.

Kimberly turned to look at him. "I don't like bullies."


	6. Chapter 6

**Apologies for the delay in updates; unfortunately, life gets in the way and teaching is more important than writing fanfiction. Shame, because I enjoy this so much more than my lessons. It means that I haven't been on my page in a while, so when I came on to upload this chapter I was absolutely blown away by the number of views – 1,039. I'm in shock. Pure shock. Thank you** ** _so_** **much to** **everyone** **who has been reading this story, to those who are following, who have favourited, sent a review or a PM (that made me smile for days that message).**

 **So finally, after waiting forever, the next chapter is finally here. Cannot guarantee when the next chapter is going to be posted, I am in the process of writing it, but it is gonna take a while I'm afraid. Four stories to write on top of the fifteen classes I have to plan, prepare and teach makes for a lot of work.**

 **Enjoy my lovelies**

 **xXx**

* * *

Chapter Six

The three agents and two detectives spent another hour or so quietly talking amongst themselves. Kimberly was sitting in front of Callen's desk whilst he had perched himself on top of the table, gently nudging her whenever it looked like she was drifting off. Something she was incredibly grateful for; her head was killing her and a fog was starting to dull her senses. Kimberly couldn't have been more grateful when the alarm finally went off on her phone indicating it was time for her to take a round of medication. Sam passed her a glass of water to help wash the pills down and she sipped it slowly, feeling the effects of the meds kick in almost instantly. Logically she knew her brain was convincing the rest of her body that the meds were already at work whereas in reality it would be at least another twenty minutes before they actually started working. But today was one of those days where logic to take a back seat.

Hetty walked over to them a while later, asking softly if Kimberly was up to continuing their conversation. Kimberly hesitated, biting her lip. Thanks to the medication she was much more clearheaded now compared to when she had started the conversation. Why the hell had she started talking about this? "Hetty I…I'm sorry, a lot of this is still really…" She sighed heavily. "What exactly do you want to know? What happened during the attack? Because I wasn't there, I was travelling into the city from New Jersey because it was a Friday morning and I had three days off. As soon as I heard about what was happening I got over to the lab just in time to see it blow up. With no idea if my friends, my family, had gotten out safely." She stopped briefly, running a hand through her hair. "If you want to know anything more about that day you would be better off talking to my boss."

"But you were the one who connected the dots to the incident here." Kimberly turned slightly to face Deeks. His partner glared at him and Hetty levelled a gaze at him. He gulped inaudibly, silently cursing that he had yet again spoken without thinking.

"I haven't connected _any_ dots yet Detective, I haven't had a chance to go over the information you gave me. All I've got is alarm bells ringing, and that was enough to convince Mac to request the information." She turned back to Hetty. "I don't know the details, it's only word of mouth. Even then it's come through friends of mine in the LAPD and their crime lab. So until I can get five minutes and read those files it is all speculation." She sighed heavily. "What do you want to know Ms Lange? How I think these two attacks are linked, or more about my life story?"

The team glanced at each other before all collectively transferring their gazes to their boss. It was a good question, and Callen imagined Hetty would want answers to both of them. He sure as hell knew that he did. But what would Hetty say? Which one did she want to know more about? Callen's mind flitted back to the picture and realised they needed to know more about how it came to be in the Detective's possession more than anything else right now. Evidently the Operations Manager was thinking along the same lines as him. "I would like to know what happened after the…incident…if you are okay with telling me." Callen rolled his eyes; only Hetty could make someone feel like they just had to tell her what she wanted to know.

* * *

Kimberly stared at her, silently weighing her options. They weren't great. What did it cost her, to tell those around her more about herself? Just her sanity. Ok, so maybe she was being a little over dramatic, but still, this was difficult. She'd become an expert in blocking out the more painful aspects of her past, and now these people, practically strangers, were asking her to dig it back up again.

With a sigh she shifted slightly in her chair, biting back a wince. "Okay, so the attack came, blah blah blah. Like I said, I'm not going into details about it. But I later found out that everyone, including my aunt, had managed to get out of the building. Everyone except for Mac and his partner. Mac was indirectly responsible for blowing up the lab. I didn't know this before then, but Mac and my aunt had been arguing that day because Peyton was going to London to visit her family and she wanted Mac to go with her. He was reluctant at first, but after…everything I guess he realised he was being an idiot. So they went off to London and I went with them, having managed to get two weeks off from work. Well, I say two weeks. I had actually handed my notice in with NJPD and was going to be joining the crime lab in the city full time, that's what I was on my way to tell them. I was bloody crap at taking holiday time, still am, so was able to take two weeks out of my months' notice to go to London with Mac and Peyton, see my family over there. I hadn't seen any of them in nearly ten years."

Kimberly had been smiling as she talked about seeing her family, but Deeks noticed that it dropped suddenly, her shoulder slumped and she seemed sadder. "So after two weeks I had to come back. Mac came with me but Peyton had decided to stay behind a little longer. It wasn't until October that mac received a letter from Peyton saying that she was staying in London permanently and so was breaking up with him. I only found out through him what was happening, which led to several very intense phone calls between me and my aunt, and I didn't talk to her again. We saw her once, back in 2010 when Mac inadvertently found out she was back in the city for a few days. By that point Mac and I had filed the paperwork to have my name legally changed to Taylor-Driscoll, although I tend to shorten it to T-Driscoll as you know. And that's about it. That's my story. Neither of us have seen or heard from Peyton since then, Mac's since gotten married to a lovely women called Christine and I've been working in the lab."

She paused briefly before fixing Hetty with a glare that, Sam later swore to Callen, would rival that of the older woman. "Is that it? Or is there anything else in my personal life you wish to know?"

Deeks hid a grin at the question, wandering how Hetty would take the question. There was another pause before Hetty replied. Callen was half expecting her to whip out the picture there and then, but she didn't. Instead she asked Kimberly if she could come back over to the office as there was something confidential she needed to share with her. Callen bit the inside of his cheek as the younger woman hesitantly agreed before sliding off the desk and straightened up. "Do you need some help getting over there?"

Kimberly shook her head slightly. "No, it's okay. Thank you."

He glanced at Hetty, silently asking if she wanted him there for the coming conversation. She twitched her head slightly, just enough to indicate no. Callen hesitated, wandering if it was the best thing to do, but eventually sat back down at his desk, turning to watch as Kimberly slowly climbed the steps back into Hetty's office. "Quit staring at her, you'll scare her off."

He turned around to see his partner smirking at him. "What are you talking about?"

Now Sam was full on grinning. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You've barely taken your eyes off her. Stayed with her in the hospital the entire time. Have you left her side at all?"

"Yes actually. I wasn't with her when she got changed, or went for her scans. And one of the FBI guys sat with her for a while so I could grab a shower and change."

"And did you?" Sam didn't know why he was asking the question when he knew full well what the answer would be.

Callen opened his mouth to reply, then shook his head in exasperation. He looked down and attempted to focus on the pile of paperwork that was in front of him in an attempt to ignore the insufferably smug look that would be on his partner's face, blocking out the chuckles that came from his team. What could he say in reply to that? He couldn't admit that he was fascinated by this Detective, that he wanted to know everything he could about her. Instead he tried to play it off as being concerned about her. There was no way he was going to go any further than that; Christ it had barely been three weeks since he and Joelle had split up for the last time. No, he was not interested in a relationship of any kind. He just wanted to know a little bit more about her.

This was why he was keeping an ear open to the conversation taking place on the other side of the Mission. He wasn't able to hear what was being said between the two women, but he had promised the doctor that he would keep an eye on Kimberly. She had after all been unconscious only hours ago, and she was still suffering from a pretty serious concussion, even if she did manage to hide said suffering pretty well. He became distracted however when Eric walked into the bullpen. "I've managed to piece together the CCTV from the airport, tracking the shooters back to where they started."

He turned around to face the young tech. "What did you find Eric?"

"See for yourself." He gestured to the TV screen set up by Deeks' desk and they all turned, watching as large group of men piled out of a nondescript van. They were all wearing dark clothing, the same that Callen had seen the shooters wearing in the terminal. The group paused, apparently conferring amongst themselves before five men split off and got back into the van. It was then driven away as the rest of the group slipped into the airport via a service entrance.

"So that's how they got in then. There are no security checkpoints at service entrances," Sam commented.

"And with what they were wearing, they could have easily been mistaken as airport personnel," added Kensi. "What about the van though? And the men that got back into it?"

"We're still trying to track it down. But it's pretty generic. All we could get from the cameras was the colour, license plates aren't visible or the quality of the cameras isn't good enough. Nell's got Kaleidoscope running upstairs for it, but I'm not sure we're going to get anything."

"What about the men who got back into the van? It doesn't take five guys to drive one vehicle," Deeks chimed in suddenly, watching the footage as it played back. Callen focused in on the five. It was difficult to make out which ones were which when they were all crowded together, but as the main group headed towards the building five men split off and headed back to the van.

"Facial rec hasn't been able to pick up anything on them; their faces are never turned towards the camera and, again, the quality isn't good enough to pick up any features." Eric sounded a little frustrated, and Callen couldn't blame him. It was annoying that they had so little to work on.

"Why would they get back into the van if this was a terrorist attack? You'd have thought that they would all be in on it." Kensi was sounding confused, almost like she was trying to get inside their heads.

"Unless…" Sam trailed off, looking at Callen.

The team leader could see what his partner was thinking and finished his sentence, almost automatically. "The airport wasn't their target."

"What do you mean?" Deeks looked over at the two older men, as confused as his own partner.

"Think about it. What does attacking an airport, an international airport nonetheless, do?"

"Creates panic." Eric offered.

"Yeah, but it does something else. Who went to the airport yesterday? As soon as the attack began?" Callen looked at his team, an eyebrow raised slightly.

"The police." Comprehension started dawning in Kensi's eyes. "And not just them. The Bureau, Homeland."

"All law enforcement and government agency was entirely focused on the airport yesterday. Which means they weren't thinking about the rest of the city…"

"It was a distraction." Deeks finished Callen's sentence, the colour draining slightly from his face. "What the hell was happening that they needed to use a massacre as a distraction?"

Callen turned to the tech. "Eric, find that van. And start trying to find if anything was reported yesterday afternoon. No matter how small or silly it may seem, we need to know them all."

The younger man had just left the bullpen and he was about to give the rest of his team tasks when a crash echoed behind them, making the team jump slightly. Callen swung around to see Kimberly walking out of the Mission, her body tense and her face white. He started to follow her before turning to look at where she had come from. Hetty was still sat behind her desk, and standing next to her was Granger, his jaw tight from what Callen could recognise as frustration. Callen's eyes narrowed slightly and he was torn between wanting to go after Kimberly but also wanting to know what had happened. "Sam, get onto the Bureau, catch them up on what we have; they may have new information too. Deeks do the same with LAPD. Kensi, help Eric and Nell. See if you can find out about anything else that may have happened yesterday." Without waiting to hear his team agree Callen was walking over to his boss. He stopped in front of her desk, not bothering to lift up the chair that had been the source of the crash. "What happened?" He saw the photograph lying on the desk, next to an open file. "You told her?"

"Actually it was the Assistant-Director who told her." Callen looked from Hetty to Granger who had managed to smooth his face back into an impassive mask.

"What did you say?"

"I merely told her the truth Agent Callen, not that it is any concern of yours." Granger was, once again, sounding like a pompous ass.

"You do realise that she is still seriously ill. That technically she should still be in hospital. That the only reason she is out of the hospital is because I said that I would keep an eye on her. That I would make sure that nothing could happen to set her back. And now thanks to you she's just walked out of the building into a city that she is unfamiliar with whilst heavily concussed?" Callen's voice had risen as he had spat all this at Granger, and damn the man for not even looking like he cared. He turned back to Hetty, who did not look happy at all with what had happened. "Do you know where she went?"

Hetty shook her head. "She didn't say anything."

Callen turned around, paused and grabbed the picture from the desk before leaving Hetty's office and going after the New York Detective. He hoped that she was okay, and that it wouldn't be too difficult to find her.

* * *

She didn't stop walking until she had reached a park. She had no idea what the time was, even though her phone was in her pocket, but she couldn't bring herself to look at it. She didn't want to talk to anyone right now.

With a sigh she sank down onto a nearby bench, ignoring the mild ache in her back and leg. In truth she barely noticed her injuries now, her mind full of turmoil and despair. She couldn't believe what they had said. They were wrong, they had to be. But even as she denied it, so many things slid into place. So many things now made sense. But still. They couldn't be right…

Kimberly lowered herself back into the seat, sighing softly as she stretched her leg out in front of her. She was lucky she had only been given a walking cast to support her ankle, but it was still making her leg ache to have an unfamiliar weight weighing it down. She looked up at Hetty who was watching her. "Would you like a fresh cup of tea?"

Kimberly smiled slightly. What a British thing to say. As if all the problems in the world could be solved by tea. She shook her head. "No thank you. I've never really been a tea drinker. My aunts' family is though. God they were always drinking tea."

"Have you seen them? Since you came back from England?" Hetty was wandering just who these people were.

Kimberly frowned. "No, but that's hardly surprising. I'm always working, and I'm crap at taking holiday. Plus, ironically, I hate flying; altitude sickness is not fun." She ran a hand through her hair.

"Have you spoken to them at all? Over the phone, or emails?" Hetty was persistent, probably too much.

The young Detective straightened slightly, her eyes narrowing a little. "Why are you so interested? I can understand you wanting to know more about the attack, but everything else? Why are you so insistent on knowing about my personal life?"

The older woman remained silent for a moment looking at Kimberly. Her posture was stiff, her shoulders tight and a frown was creasing her forehead. Hetty pulled a slip of paper out of her jacket pocket and glanced down at it briefly before holding it out to Kimberly. "Does this look familiar to you?"

If it was possible Kimberly's frown deepened as she took the piece of paper, worn from being handled often. Her mouth dried suddenly when she turned it over and saw a very familiar picture. Biting her lip hard she asked Hetty in a very quiet voice whilst staring at the photograph, "Where did you get this?"

Hetty was silent until Kimberly looked up at her, silently demanding an answer. She sighed heavily. "After you had left Mr Callen's car yesterday at the airport he found it in the passenger foot well; he believed it had fallen out of your bag." She hesitated, already knowing what the answer would be thanks to Nell running facial rec on the picture earlier. "I know I'm prying but I have to ask; is that your aunt and uncle?"

Kimberly swallowed. "Yes it is. That's Mac and…and Peyton. This was taken when we were in London. Why?"

"Because Peyton Driscoll was not her name. She was Senior Agent Lauren Hunter." Granger's voice sounded from behind her and she turned her head slightly to see the man stepping up into the office and stand beside Hetty.

Kimberly stared at him with a raised eyebrow. "I'm sorry, what? Her name was Peyton. Dr Peyton Driscoll and she was a distinguished medical examiner, not a federal agent."

Granger dropped a folder down in front of her, the sound of it hitting the desk with a quiet thud. "No she wasn't. She was an agent who at that time was working undercover for the FBI. She told you she was remaining in London when in fact she was re-assigned, pulled out and transferred from the FBI to NCIS."

Kimberly barely heard the man as she looked through the folder, skimming through the pages and pictures so quickly Hetty wasn't sure if she was taking any of it in. Until she looked up at the older woman and she saw the colour was draining from her face. "Did you know her?" Hetty simply nodded and Kimberly swallowed heavily. "And C…Agent Callen?"

Hetty hesitated briefly but it was answer enough for her. Biting her lip hard she stood abruptly, the chair pushing away from her and toppling over with a bang. She seemed oblivious to it, and with hands shaking and her head buzzing she turned and walked to the nearest exit, a different one to the way she had walked in from earlier, but she wasn't aware of that. She just had to get out.

The sound of laughing startled Kimberly out of her thoughts and she blinked, sniffing heavily. Bringing a hand up to rub at her eyes she was shocked to feel tears running down her face. Angry at herself she scrubbed the tears from her cheeks, pulling her jacket closer around her. _Callen's jacket_ , she suddenly realised. Damn it. She wished she had never come to LA, had never heard of this stupid case, and realised that suddenly, despite the fact that she was 31, and wasn't even related to him, she wanted nothing more than to talk to Mac.

 _Oh god, Mac_. How the hell was she going to be able to tell him? That they had been lied to, completely and utterly by the one woman they had both trusted their lives with. And it had been a lie. All of it, a total lie. Her body started shaking and she found that she was choking back sobs, unable to think about what to do next. She knew that she sounded like a child but the only thought she could focus on that was running around in her head, the only thing that made sense, was one sentence; she wanted to go home.

* * *

Callen had spent an hour searching the surrounding neighbourhood trying to find Kimberly, to no avail. She wasn't anywhere, and he was starting to grow concerned. He knew that normally she would be able to take care of herself, but this wasn't normal circumstances. She was hurt, confused, and in a strange city. Damn it, he knew he shouldn't have let her talk about this by herself. And Granger sure as hell hadn't helped.

With a curse he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialled OPS. "Beale."

"Eric, I need you to trace Detective D-Taylor's phone now."

"On it." Callen waited for Eric to come back to him, fully aware of the time. She had just over an hour before the next round of medication was due. It was in his pocket; she hadn't taken it with her when she had left OSP. "She's five minutes away from you. In the Descanso Gardens."

"Thanks Eric." He ended the call and slid his phone away before turning and heading back the way he came. Callen hadn't even thought to check the park, but it made a certain sense, especially if she wanted some time to herself. But damn it, he was worried about her. And Alex would have his head if something happened to her.

Callen entered the park, wandering where the hell Kimberly would be in a park that stretched 150 acres. His phone beeped and he pulled it out, silently thanking Eric who had sent him a virtual map of the park with a marker indicating where Kimberly's phone was. _Hackers_ , he thought as he broke into a light jog, skirting past other people who had decided to be in the Gardens that afternoon.

When he reached the lake Callen slowed down to a walk, scanning the people who were there, looking for Kimberly. Eventually he saw her sitting on a bench, close to where he was. He stopped and simply watched her for a while, guessing she didn't want any company for a while. He glanced at his watch for the time; 3:10. He didn't need to disturb her just yet, so sank down onto a bench that was just out of her line of sight if she looked up. He didn't want to scare her off, but was determined to keep an eye on her nonetheless.

About 40 minutes passed and Callen noticed that not once did Kimberly release the tense posture she had. Her shoulders were tight with tension, her head bowed low and her hands clasped tightly in her lap. He wasn't close enough to confirm but he was pretty sure that, every now and then, a shudder ran through her body. Whether this was from supressed emotions or pain he wasn't sure, but it could have also been from cold; the temperature had dropped noticeably in the time he had been in the park. With a sigh he climbed to his feet and started walking over to the Detective, taking care to be in her line of sight in an attempt to not startle her; in the time it took him to reach the bench she was sitting on Kimberly hadn't looked up once and her posture hadn't shifted an inch. He slowly lowered himself down onto the bench and simply sat there, waiting.

* * *

It didn't take long, maybe five minutes, before Kimberly finally moved. She had been sitting in the same position so long it was a wonder she hadn't started to fossilise. She wasn't stupid either; she'd know that someone was watching her for some time, but just couldn't bring herself to look for them. She had figured though that it was going to be someone from the building she had left a while ago; she would have been surprised if they had not kept tabs on her. But she didn't know who it was until they finally sat down beside her.

Kimberly closed her eyes as she breathed in the scent that had dominated the car earlier. Callen. _Damn it._ She had been half hoping it would be someone else from his team. Why? _Because he didn't tell her._ He knew, Hetty's silence had told her that. He had known when they were at the airport, when they were working with each other to save the lives of as many people as possible. Trusting each other's backs.

Kimberly sighed inaudibly. What else could he have done? Told her right there and then? At the hospital? When would the best time had been. She drew in a slow breath before speaking, very softly. So quietly in fact that it was difficult to hear her own words. But she found that she couldn't speak any louder. "You knew. When you saw that picture. That's what all the questions were about."

Callen hesitated. He had to strain to hear what she was saying, then wished with all his heart that he hadn't. Christ, what the hell was happening to him? He was never like this. Nevertheless, she deserved an answer. "Yes. I…we needed to know…what you knew."

"And that's why you were in the airport. Why you came looking for me, and wanted me to go with you."

He nodded. "I'd called Hetty as soon as I found that picture. She…I didn't know anything about her past assignments; I still don't. And I don't know why she was in New York, if I did…"

"Would you tell me?"

"Yes. Screw clearance. I've had information kept from me about my family for years and that screwed me up beyond belief. I wouldn't do that to someone else."

Kimberly bit her lip hard, swallowing another sob. "C-can you tell me…a-about her?"

Callen nodded again. "Yeah." He glanced over at her and noticed that her posture was still stiff, unyielding, and started wandering if she was holding herself in that way to ease the pain she was no doubt in. She was also shaking, despite wearing the jacket he had given her earlier. Glancing at his watch he saw it was almost time for her next round of medication, and remembered there was a small café near where they were sitting. "Look why don't we go somewhere a bit warmer. It's nearly time for the next round of medication as well."

"I'm not going back there. Not today."

"I wasn't even thinking of taking you back there. I told the Doc I would keep an eye on you, so let me take you to a hotel. I'd take you to my place but…well honestly there isn't a lot there. You can grab a shower, get something to eat and try to relax. I'll tell you what I know about your aunt."

"I don't even know if she is my aunt anymore." Kimberly sighed heavily before nodding. "Okay, that sounds…thank you."

Callen shrugged a shoulder before standing. He stretched, feeling his muscles ache with cold, and wandered how she must have been feeling. He started to offer Kimberly a hand before realising she would probably need more help than that, so bent down and, after waiting for a nod from her, wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He could feel just how tightly her body was wound and realised just how much she was trembling. After counting to three he slowly lifted her to her feet. Kimberly bit her lip hard to bite back the groan, the abused muscles in her back protesting the movement.

Once he was sure she would be able to stand unassisted Callen stepped slightly away from her. Kimberly hesitated briefly before taking a step forward. She grit her teeth as her back twinged and her head swam. Suddenly it was all she could do to stay on her feet, and then she felt a warm arm wrap around her waist. It took a second for her vision to clear but when it did she could see Callen staring at her, concern splashed across his face. "I'm okay, just stood up too fast. Thanks."

He hesitated briefly before nodding. "Come on, I'll grab you a bottle of water for your meds." He kept his arm around Kimberly's waist as they walked slowly over to the café, trying to keep his mind off of how close she was, and that he found her scent of vanilla and oranges particularly appealing.


End file.
